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 Belgium and from London.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Sister Nancy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Howard Jones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
New York Dolls,
The American Breed,
Heaven 17,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Music Machine,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Radiohead,
David Bowie,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Bananas,
The Electric Prunes,
Little Man,
the Soft Cell,
Radio Birdman,
The Mojo Men,
China Crisis,
Hoover,
PIL,
Subhumans,
the Slits,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quando Quango,
Moby Grape,
Au Pairs,
Saccharine Trust,
Barry Ungar,
The Divine Comedy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Holt,
The Velvet Underground,
The Barracudas,
The Leaves,
Duran Duran,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Depeche Mode,
Half Japanese,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marshall Jefferson,
Livin' Joy,
The Dead C,
Scrapy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
ABBA,
Minny Pops,
Yusef Lateef,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Black Sheep,
T. Rex,
Patti Smith,
Urselle,
Dual Sessions,
Anthony Braxton,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jeff Mills,
DJ Sneak,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.