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 Korea South and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 U.S. Maple to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
Soul II Soul,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Youth Brigade,
Quando Quango,
B.T. Express,
Cheater Slicks,
Khruangbin,
Loose Ends,
Monolake,
Whodini,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Slits,
The Red Krayola,
The Wake,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Duran Duran,
Trumans Water,
Soft Cell,
Q65,
The Monks,
David Bowie,
Althea and Donna,
Camberwell Now,
New York Dolls,
Quantec,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Harry Pussy,
Boz Scaggs,
Alton Ellis,
The Remains,
Absolute Body Control,
Sam Rivers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wire,
Suburban Knight,
Minny Pops,
The Birthday Party,
Visage,
Jeff Lynne,
Eve St. Jones,
Moss Icon,
Charles Mingus,
Animal Collective,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Japan,
Porter Ricks,
Rekid,
June Days,
Howard Jones,
Minutemen,
Carl Craig,
Pagans,
Negative Approach,
Con Funk Shun,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.