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 Zimbabwe and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Erykah Badu,
Matthew Bourne,
Nik Kershaw,
Monks,
Deepchord,
John Lydon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Radiohead,
Letta Mbulu,
Janne Schatter,
Bill Wells,
Eddi Front,
Scott Walker,
Yusef Lateef,
Eric B and Rakim,
Skarface,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Martian,
PIL,
The Young Rascals,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fela Kuti,
Ice-T,
Quadrant,
Amon Düül,
DJ Style,
James White and The Blacks,
Mark Hollis,
Ohio Players,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Foxx,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marc Almond,
Khruangbin,
Masters at Work,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Urselle,
Harmonia,
OOIOO,
Hasil Adkins,
Goldenarms,
Soul II Soul,
Graham Central Station,
Accadde A,
Chris & Cosey,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jacques Brel,
The Seeds,
Dave Gahan,
Sam Rivers,
Robert Wyatt,
The Litter,
These Immortal Souls,
Sister Nancy,
Aural Exciters,
The Gap Band,
Idris Muhammad,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.