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 Mauritania and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar 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 Ultra Naté to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Camberwell Now,
Talk Talk,
Dave Gahan,
the Fania All-Stars,
T. Rex,
U.S. Maple,
Terry Callier,
Suicide,
Piero Umiliani,
Skriet,
Gabor Szabo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sarah Menescal,
The Golliwogs,
Leonard Cohen,
Cybotron,
Todd Terry,
FM Einheit,
Jacques Brel,
Ludus,
Alphaville,
Pet Shop Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
Inner City,
Charles Mingus,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hoover,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thompson Twins,
The Red Krayola,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Bar-Kays,
The Standells,
Don Cherry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mandrill,
The Slits,
Iggy Pop,
10cc,
Swell Maps,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Joy Division,
Niagra,
Bad Manners,
In Retrospect,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pantaleimon,
Chris Corsano,
Kas Product,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gerry Rafferty,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sugar Minott,
Agitation Free,
Scrapy,
Simply Red,
The Monochrome Set,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.