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 Cyprus and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Holger Czukay 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 Tropical Tobacco to the grime 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Thompson Twins,
David Axelrod,
the Slits,
Fela Kuti,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Gories,
A Certain Ratio,
Freddie Wadling,
Ituana,
Surgeon,
Mad Mike,
Donny Hathaway,
Excepter,
David McCallum,
Alice Coltrane,
Second Layer,
Ossler,
Pagans,
Davy DMX,
Erykah Badu,
Can,
Livin' Joy,
Shuggie Otis,
The Human League,
Reagan Youth,
Minutemen,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Pretty Things,
Pole,
Sex Pistols,
Tomorrow,
Pere Ubu,
Cameo,
Althea and Donna,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Underground Resistance,
Royal Trux,
The Residents,
Bauhaus,
Blake Baxter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Blues Magoos,
Marmalade,
Robert Görl,
The Remains,
Cal Tjader,
Black Moon,
Urselle,
Mission of Burma,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Boredoms,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Whodini,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Los Fastidios,
Jeru the Damaja,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ohio Players,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.