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 Belarus and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Stiv Bators to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
The Moleskins,
Mark Hollis,
The Blackbyrds,
The Monks,
Boredoms,
Black Moon,
Minnie Riperton,
Brick,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Sheep,
Dennis Brown,
Piero Umiliani,
The Pretty Things,
Angry Samoans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun City Girls,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Busters,
Panda Bear,
Subhumans,
Make Up,
MDC,
Nils Olav,
CMW,
The Martian,
Reagan Youth,
Thompson Twins,
Lyres,
Kaleidoscope,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hashim,
Pantaleimon,
New Order,
Ituana,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Monochrome Set,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marc Almond,
Hardrive,
Gang Starr,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kerri Chandler,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Qualms,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Cale,
Ludus,
The Seeds,
FM Einheit,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Hood,
Stiv Bators,
Scientists,
Massinfluence,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
ABC,
Blancmange,
Letta Mbulu,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.