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 Papua New Guinea and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg 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 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 Dawn Penn to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Donald Byrd,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Lynne,
David Bowie,
Bronski Beat,
Basic Channel,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kenny Larkin,
Lightning Bolt,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Amazonics,
The Busters,
Mr. Review,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Avey Tare,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wire,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Banda Bassotti,
Ossler,
The Monks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deepchord,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nils Olav,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Standells,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cecil Taylor,
Radiohead,
Deadbeat,
The Monochrome Set,
Ultimate Spinach,
Boogie Down Productions,
48th St. Collective,
John Lydon,
Smog,
Swell Maps,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nik Kershaw,
Barbara Tucker,
The Alarm Clocks,
Soft Machine,
Scrapy,
Sandy B,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Archie Shepp,
Minny Pops,
Derrick May,
The Happenings,
The Golliwogs,
Crooked Eye,
Interpol,
Cymande,
Black Flag,
Vladislav Delay,
ABC,
Nico,
Bush Tetras,
Bill Near,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.