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 Georgia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar 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 Silicon Teens to the electroclash 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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Slick Rick,
Roxette,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Section 25,
D'Angelo,
Joe Finger,
Rod Modell,
World's Most,
Quando Quango,
The Beau Brummels,
Radiopuhelimet,
Althea and Donna,
A Certain Ratio,
The Raincoats,
Josef K,
The Fugs,
The Vogues,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ohio Players,
Joey Negro,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Deadbeat,
AZ,
Porter Ricks,
The Five Americans,
Warren Ellis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gregory Isaacs,
Juan Atkins,
Michelle Simonal,
The Misunderstood,
The Litter,
Ornette Coleman,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Oblivians,
Howard Jones,
the Soft Cell,
Man Parrish,
Von Mondo,
Sun Ra,
The Offenders,
David Bowie,
ABC,
Ossler,
Guru Guru,
Newcleus,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Stetsasonic,
the Association,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Cale,
Isaac Hayes,
The Smoke,
Desert Stars,
Brand Nubian,
Stiv Bators,
Malaria!,
Kenny Larkin,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.