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 Guinea-Bissau and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Joy Division to the rock 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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Ten City,
Funkadelic,
Porter Ricks,
Pagans,
Swans,
Ornette Coleman,
The Black Dice,
Pussy Galore,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wolf Eyes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Q65,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fluxion,
The Standells,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dual Sessions,
Donald Byrd,
Skarface,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eurythmics,
Moss Icon,
Ohio Players,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Dead C,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Smog,
Lightning Bolt,
Monolake,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Offenders,
The Litter,
Bang On A Can,
Yusef Lateef,
Hashim,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roy Ayers,
Bluetip,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Echospace,
Sugar Minott,
Leonard Cohen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mark Hollis,
The Selecter,
Unrelated Segments,
Funky Four + One,
Marine Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
Brass Construction,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Arab on Radar,
Faust,
MC5,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
10cc,
The Blues Magoos,
Joyce Sims,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.