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 Libya and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba 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 Magazine to the rock 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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
The Five Americans,
Harry Pussy,
Jeff Mills,
Los Fastidios,
Television,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Golliwogs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Roxy Music,
The Angels of Light,
B.T. Express,
Altered Images,
Pole,
Johnny Clarke,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang of Four,
Mars,
Scratch Acid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jeff Lynne,
Marmalade,
Mark Hollis,
Half Japanese,
Marshall Jefferson,
Agent Orange,
The Skatalites,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Pop Group,
Crispy Ambulance,
MC5,
H. Thieme,
DJ Style,
The J.B.'s,
The Move,
Frankie Knuckles,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bootsy Collins,
Swell Maps,
The Busters,
The Fire Engines,
The Fortunes,
Basic Channel,
The Standells,
Stetsasonic,
The Durutti Column,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sonic Youth,
Television Personalities,
Alphaville,
Kerri Chandler,
Boz Scaggs,
Niagra,
Colin Newman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Severed Heads,
Black Pus,
The Dave Clark Five,
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.