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 Dominica and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Masters at Work to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Severed Heads,
Freddie Wadling,
Audionom,
Von Mondo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eve St. Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
Mr. Review,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sight & Sound,
The Buckinghams,
The Monks,
Dark Day,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Buzzcocks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The American Breed,
Fugazi,
The Young Rascals,
Supertramp,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
New York Dolls,
Moby Grape,
K-Klass,
The Angels of Light,
Tres Demented,
Jandek,
Spandau Ballet,
Cymande,
Wolf Eyes,
Silicon Teens,
Amon Düül,
Vainqueur,
Junior Murvin,
Public Image Ltd.,
EPMD,
Rotary Connection,
OOIOO,
The Litter,
Negative Approach,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Suicide,
the Fania All-Stars,
Oblivians,
The Trojans,
Fluxion,
Ronan,
June Days,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Germs,
Bill Wells,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mission of Burma,
Simply Red,
Kaleidoscope,
The Skatalites,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.