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 Suriname and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare 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 Make Up to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Stiv Bators,
Freddie Wadling,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Liliput,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ossler,
Supertramp,
Sonic Youth,
Oblivians,
Public Enemy,
Crash Course in Science,
Panda Bear,
Eddi Front,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Chris Corsano,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rakim,
Blancmange,
John Holt,
June of 44,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stetsasonic,
Dave Gahan,
Michelle Simonal,
Ken Boothe,
Soulsonic Force,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marc Almond,
The Real Kids,
Juan Atkins,
Ornette Coleman,
The Durutti Column,
Roy Ayers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mission of Burma,
Joyce Sims,
K-Klass,
Warsaw,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Charles Mingus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Henry Cow,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
X-101,
F. McDonald,
Saccharine Trust,
T.S.O.L.,
The Happenings,
The Blues Magoos,
Gong,
Oneida,
Cheater Slicks,
X-Ray Spex,
D'Angelo,
Dorothy Ashby,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.