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 Laos and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gang Gang Dance to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Residents,
The Selecter,
KRS-One,
Sonny Sharrock,
Colin Newman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Motorama,
La Düsseldorf,
The Monks,
Simply Red,
Easy Going,
Carl Craig,
Zapp,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Graham Central Station,
Jeff Lynne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Young Rascals,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Skaos,
Delta 5,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Standells,
Circle Jerks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The American Breed,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Erasure,
Roxette,
The Slits,
Ronnie Foster,
Fatback Band,
Roy Ayers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Outsiders,
MDC,
DNA,
Man Eating Sloth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rapeman,
Joy Division,
In Retrospect,
Darondo,
Ornette Coleman,
Reagan Youth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pole,
Bill Wells,
Marmalade,
Jawbox,
The Monochrome Set,
Yusef Lateef,
Q and Not U,
Electric Prunes,
Loose Ends,
Sixth Finger,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Michelle Simonal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Blake Baxter,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.