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 Georgia and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 linndrum 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 Visage to the dance 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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Stiv Bators,
Patti Smith,
Whodini,
Joyce Sims,
The Motions,
U.S. Maple,
Bauhaus,
Subhumans,
Mars,
Flipper,
Roy Ayers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dennis Brown,
Arcadia,
The Smoke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ossler,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Remains,
Alton Ellis,
Bill Near,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mandrill,
John Cale,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sonics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bang On A Can,
Traffic Nightmare,
Radiohead,
The Kinks,
The Move,
Bluetip,
Crooked Eye,
Bootsy Collins,
Swans,
Index,
Pussy Galore,
Pharoah Sanders,
La Düsseldorf,
Man Parrish,
Mad Mike,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
48th St. Collective,
Technova,
The Busters,
Ronnie Foster,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Ken Boothe,
CMW,
Dead Boys,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Residents,
Aloha Tigers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Blues Magoos,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
World's Most,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.