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 Antigua and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
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 harpsichord 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 Model 500 to the techno 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 The Victims. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe 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 clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
E-Dancer,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Raincoats,
Motorama,
Intrusion,
The Doobie Brothers,
World's Most,
The Fugs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soulsonic Force,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Surgeon,
Lalo Schifrin,
Laurel Aitken,
Junior Murvin,
Ralphi Rosario,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Modern Lovers,
Carl Craig,
Alphaville,
Judy Mowatt,
Babytalk,
DJ Style,
The Selecter,
Loose Ends,
Icehouse,
Blossom Toes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Anakelly,
Q and Not U,
Altered Images,
Essential Logic,
The Litter,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hoover,
Tears for Fears,
Sixth Finger,
Amazonics,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bill Wells,
Hasil Adkins,
Cameo,
Robert Wyatt,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Moleskins,
Livin' Joy,
Lower 48,
Shuggie Otis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gang Starr,
Eden Ahbez,
Althea and Donna,
Tommy Roe,
Johnny Osbourne,
In Retrospect,
Sun Ra,
Soft Cell,
Donny Hathaway,
New York Dolls,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.