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 Libya and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sound Behaviour to the punk 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Alison Limerick,
ABC,
Fear,
Bush Tetras,
Skriet,
Section 25,
The Gap Band,
The Residents,
Rakim,
Roy Ayers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Livin' Joy,
The Flesh Eaters,
World's Most,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Popol Vuh,
Monks,
Youth Brigade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Holt,
Pole,
The Evens,
Gang Starr,
Lou Reed,
Blake Baxter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eric Copeland,
Derrick May,
The Invisible,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gang Green,
Moss Icon,
The Walker Brothers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Niagra,
Bang On A Can,
The Tremeloes,
The Pretty Things,
Moby Grape,
Ossler,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Spoonie Gee,
Toni Rubio,
The Remains,
Stetsasonic,
The Cramps,
The Techniques,
The Sound,
KRS-One,
Matthew Bourne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Darondo,
Easy Going,
Dual Sessions,
The Alarm Clocks,
Zapp,
Black Bananas,
John Cale,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.