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 Singapore and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb 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 Matthew Bourne to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
The Count Five,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rufus Thomas,
Ludus,
Rekid,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Reed,
E-Dancer,
H. Thieme,
DNA,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dark Day,
Cameo,
Hashim,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eric B and Rakim,
James White and The Blacks,
Stetsasonic,
The Buckinghams,
Jacques Brel,
Skriet,
Joyce Sims,
Section 25,
Robert Wyatt,
Jandek,
Ituana,
Joe Finger,
Los Fastidios,
Stockholm Monsters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kurtis Blow,
Bush Tetras,
The Sonics,
Lightning Bolt,
Pantytec,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Yazoo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wings,
Sight & Sound,
The Music Machine,
Icehouse,
Sam Rivers,
Albert Ayler,
June of 44,
Isaac Hayes,
Can,
The Black Dice,
The Gladiators,
Stereo Dub,
Brass Construction,
Joensuu 1685,
the Bar-Kays,
The Smiths,
the Normal,
The Last Poets,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.