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 Ireland and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Connie Case,
Funkadelic,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Gang Dance,
Flamin' Groovies,
CMW,
Q65,
Mo-Dettes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wasted Youth,
The New Christs,
Yusef Lateef,
Guru Guru,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Chris & Cosey,
Quantec,
Suburban Knight,
Camouflage,
The Gun Club,
Howard Jones,
Clear Light,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pulsallama,
One Last Wish,
OOIOO,
Theoretical Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Brand Nubian,
the Germs,
Cheater Slicks,
Minor Threat,
Terry Callier,
Vladislav Delay,
Panda Bear,
The Monochrome Set,
The Five Americans,
Yazoo,
Albert Ayler,
Jerry's Kids,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lungfish,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Yaz,
Kurtis Blow,
Zero Boys,
Fatback Band,
Hashim,
Mars,
The Count Five,
Sällskapet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Neil Young,
Aural Exciters,
Intrusion,
Lucky Dragons,
Amon Düül II,
U.S. Maple,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.