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 Azerbaijan and from Taipei.
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 Bremen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Neil Young to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Minor Threat,
Magazine,
Popol Vuh,
Scion,
Danielle Patucci,
The Dead C,
Panda Bear,
Max Romeo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cybotron,
Bronski Beat,
John Foxx,
Wasted Youth,
Make Up,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Subhumans,
Sam Rivers,
The J.B.'s,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Cramps,
The Victims,
The Blackbyrds,
Radiohead,
Tom Boy,
Simply Red,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Doors,
Animal Collective,
Howard Jones,
Brick,
Fela Kuti,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Main Source,
The Smoke,
The Moody Blues,
Hardrive,
DJ Style,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Zapp,
Deadbeat,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yaz,
U.S. Maple,
Urselle,
Flipper,
Bobby Womack,
Amon Düül II,
Lower 48,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Minnie Riperton,
Thee Headcoats,
Soft Cell,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Icehouse,
John Cale,
Essential Logic,
H. Thieme,
KRS-One,
Underground Resistance,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.