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 Laos and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Gastr Del Sol to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Leaves,
The Monks,
Joensuu 1685,
Pantaleimon,
Dawn Penn,
Dave Gahan,
Au Pairs,
The Associates,
Fat Boys,
Soft Cell,
The Smoke,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scott Walker,
Donny Hathaway,
Blancmange,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Banda Bassotti,
Vainqueur,
the Bar-Kays,
Pylon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tim Buckley,
Johnny Osbourne,
Howard Jones,
Skarface,
T.S.O.L.,
Sarah Menescal,
the Germs,
Mandrill,
The Fuzztones,
Brick,
David Bowie,
Slave,
KRS-One,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sonny Sharrock,
OOIOO,
The Moody Blues,
China Crisis,
Duran Duran,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Slits,
Bob Dylan,
Drexciya,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Trojans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Avey Tare,
Warsaw,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pere Ubu,
Lou Christie,
Loose Ends,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jerry's Kids,
B.T. Express,
Ludus,
Anakelly,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.