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 Madagascar and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Sao Paulo.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe 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 Half Japanese to the disco 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
the Slits,
The Shadows of Knight,
Boz Scaggs,
Royal Trux,
Clear Light,
The Electric Prunes,
Hot Snakes,
Wings,
Pagans,
Arthur Verocai,
Absolute Body Control,
Intrusion,
Brothers Johnson,
Qualms,
The Pop Group,
Black Bananas,
Derrick Morgan,
In Retrospect,
Nirvana,
Cabaret Voltaire,
cv313,
Vainqueur,
The Cowsills,
Man Parrish,
H. Thieme,
Mr. Review,
Severed Heads,
Nils Olav,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bauhaus,
The Raincoats,
Cybotron,
Hoover,
Thompson Twins,
Nation of Ulysses,
June Days,
Television,
Eurythmics,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Parry Music,
Swans,
Funky Four + One,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Neon Judgement,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soft Cell,
Bronski Beat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thee Headcoats,
the Association,
Kayak,
ABC,
Janne Schatter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Skarface,
Moss Icon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bill Near,
Can,
DNA,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.