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 Nigeria and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Cheater Slicks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
The Mummies,
Gregory Isaacs,
Technova,
Sandy B,
The Birthday Party,
Motorama,
Wolf Eyes,
Alphaville,
Terrestrial Tones,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Harmonia,
Pantytec,
Eric Dolphy,
Minor Threat,
Joe Smooth,
The New Christs,
Niagra,
Eden Ahbez,
Throbbing Gristle,
Quando Quango,
Aaron Thompson,
Camberwell Now,
The Toasters,
Desert Stars,
ABC,
Gang Starr,
The Shadows of Knight,
Albert Ayler,
Stetsasonic,
Soft Machine,
Los Fastidios,
Radiohead,
The Residents,
Guru Guru,
Adolescents,
Pantaleimon,
Pagans,
Joey Negro,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Curtis Mayfield,
Drive Like Jehu,
Boz Scaggs,
The Remains,
Warsaw,
Au Pairs,
T.S.O.L.,
Erykah Badu,
Warren Ellis,
Althea and Donna,
The Vogues,
One Last Wish,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Negative Approach,
The Smoke,
the Association,
These Immortal Souls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kool Moe Dee,
The United States of America,
The Fuzztones,
48th St. Collective,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.