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 Albania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe 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 The Cure to the funk 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Eric Copeland,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Moody Blues,
The Modern Lovers,
Schoolly D,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ossler,
Black Sheep,
Deakin,
Hasil Adkins,
Angry Samoans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Real Kids,
Josef K,
Adolescents,
the Bar-Kays,
Nick Fraelich,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Monolake,
Scott Walker,
Byron Stingily,
Make Up,
The Monochrome Set,
Massinfluence,
Anthony Braxton,
Crime,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Remains,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arab on Radar,
The Beau Brummels,
Intrusion,
Pere Ubu,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fugs,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Idris Muhammad,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Oblivians,
Erasure,
the Slits,
Mandrill,
Icehouse,
June of 44,
Avey Tare,
The Grass Roots,
Terry Callier,
Infiniti,
Fatback Band,
The Techniques,
Circle Jerks,
Dennis Brown,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.