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 Greece and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron 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 Subhumans to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Joyce Sims,
Suburban Knight,
Eddi Front,
The Real Kids,
Pylon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Surgeon,
The Gories,
Pantytec,
Faraquet,
Kevin Saunderson,
In Retrospect,
Can,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Seeds,
David Axelrod,
Cluster,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Deakin,
Echospace,
The Smoke,
The Techniques,
Terry Callier,
The Names,
Pole,
The J.B.'s,
Pet Shop Boys,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Fuzztones,
Gil Scott Heron,
Amon Düül II,
Sun Ra,
Roxette,
The Remains,
Isaac Hayes,
Scan 7,
Parry Music,
Mr. Review,
Mad Mike,
Boogie Down Productions,
U.S. Maple,
Main Source,
Brand Nubian,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Todd Terry,
Cymande,
Gabor Szabo,
Urselle,
Quando Quango,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rosa Yemen,
Don Cherry,
Glenn Branca,
Arthur Verocai,
Brothers Johnson,
Radiohead,
Max Romeo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.