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 China and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 oboe 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 Jeff Lynne to the jazz 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 The Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Motions,
The Slackers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Johnny Clarke,
Jeff Mills,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Electric Prunes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Accadde A,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spandau Ballet,
A Certain Ratio,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Tom Boy,
Darondo,
The Selecter,
The Dead C,
Carl Craig,
Inner City,
The Wake,
Nils Olav,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Andrew Hill,
Deakin,
Vladislav Delay,
Outsiders,
ABC,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Residents,
Funkadelic,
Wally Richardson,
Brothers Johnson,
the Human League,
Barbara Tucker,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Durutti Column,
Grauzone,
Marmalade,
Pet Shop Boys,
Stereo Dub,
Brand Nubian,
Electric Prunes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Moon,
Rufus Thomas,
Visage,
Lyres,
The Buckinghams,
Mary Jane Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crash Course in Science,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Martian,
Young Marble Giants,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Das Ding,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.