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 Singapore and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 spring reverb 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 The J.B.'s 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Motions,
Nas,
OOIOO,
Monks,
Buzzcocks,
The Evens,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Can,
Parry Music,
Franke,
Soul Sonic Force,
R.M.O.,
Camouflage,
Crash Course in Science,
Colin Newman,
Stetsasonic,
The Sonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Judy Mowatt,
Accadde A,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
48th St. Collective,
Supertramp,
The Young Rascals,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Minutemen,
X-101,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Sherman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Blackbyrds,
Wire,
Man Parrish,
Eddi Front,
Adolescents,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nils Olav,
Lyres,
Shoche,
Brick,
The Slackers,
David Axelrod,
Zero Boys,
Henry Cow,
The Gap Band,
Mantronix,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sandy B,
The Selecter,
Bob Dylan,
Kenny Larkin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Brothers Johnson,
Jandek,
Grey Daturas,
Wasted Youth,
Joy Division,
The Black Dice,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.