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 Belize and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Sister Nancy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delon & Dalcan,
The Happenings,
Absolute Body Control,
Accadde A,
Motorama,
Fat Boys,
Wolf Eyes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Roxette,
Bronski Beat,
Bush Tetras,
Alton Ellis,
D'Angelo,
Tears for Fears,
The Monks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Smiths,
Gang Gang Dance,
Saccharine Trust,
Sällskapet,
Fugazi,
Henry Cow,
Nation of Ulysses,
Leonard Cohen,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Johnny Clarke,
Bill Near,
Metal Thangz,
the Germs,
The Victims,
Severed Heads,
Shoche,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minutemen,
Zapp,
Stiv Bators,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Cosmic Jokers,
CMW,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Busters,
Agent Orange,
Tommy Roe,
The Cure,
The Doors,
The Beau Brummels,
Alphaville,
Steve Hackett,
Magma,
The Black Dice,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Von Mondo,
Ronnie Foster,
Junior Murvin,
The Motions,
A Certain Ratio,
Sexual Harrassment,
Can,
The Raincoats,
Blake Baxter,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.