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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Holger Czukay 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 Cameo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Nico,
The Toasters,
This Heat,
Scientists,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Camouflage,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Talk Talk,
Ultravox,
Funky Four + One,
Los Fastidios,
The Trojans,
Mars,
Gang Gang Dance,
Adolescents,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joe Smooth,
Dark Day,
Mary Jane Girls,
Maurizio,
The Gap Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Severed Heads,
KRS-One,
The Moody Blues,
DJ Style,
The Doors,
Faust,
The Cure,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Yusef Lateef,
The Divine Comedy,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Beau Brummels,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cluster,
Wasted Youth,
Hardrive,
The Black Dice,
Eric Dolphy,
Organ,
Derrick May,
Grauzone,
Metal Thangz,
The Cramps,
Johnny Clarke,
Todd Terry,
Ultimate Spinach,
June Days,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Zero Boys,
Malaria!,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Litter,
The Buckinghams,
Derrick Morgan,
Faraquet,
Livin' Joy,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.