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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba 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 Anthony Braxton to the dance 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
E-Dancer,
Stetsasonic,
Cymande,
Swell Maps,
The Gladiators,
Excepter,
Underground Resistance,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scott Walker,
Aural Exciters,
Piero Umiliani,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ponytail,
Buzzcocks,
48th St. Collective,
Index,
Quadrant,
R.M.O.,
Barrington Levy,
Loose Ends,
This Heat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Erykah Badu,
Pussy Galore,
The Techniques,
Jacob Miller,
Subhumans,
Q65,
Ken Boothe,
Eve St. Jones,
Fluxion,
Average White Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
B.T. Express,
Depeche Mode,
The Fall,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bad Manners,
Angry Samoans,
Gichy Dan,
June of 44,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ohio Players,
Arcadia,
The Saints,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang of Four,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Gap Band,
Motorama,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Vogues,
The Litter,
Rites of Spring,
Lalann,
The Leaves,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.