Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Vanuatu and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mission of Burma,
Ludus,
The Remains,
Kerrie Biddell,
Donny Hathaway,
Joy Division,
Black Flag,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Morten Harket,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brick,
Deepchord,
Motorama,
Ice-T,
Brothers Johnson,
Deadbeat,
Sex Pistols,
Al Stewart,
Slick Rick,
Tres Demented,
The Moleskins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Swell Maps,
Tubeway Army,
Funky Four + One,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mandrill,
Dawn Penn,
Q and Not U,
The Monks,
Fear,
Zapp,
Quando Quango,
Rosa Yemen,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
CMW,
Cheater Slicks,
Fatback Band,
Talk Talk,
Thompson Twins,
Hoover,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Parry Music,
The Pretty Things,
The Happenings,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
David McCallum,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Residents,
Gabor Szabo,
Yusef Lateef,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Blancmange,
L. Decosne,
The Mummies,
The Monochrome Set,
Wally Richardson,
The Last Poets,
Robert Görl,
8 Eyed Spy,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.