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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the jazz 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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Mark Hollis,
Joey Negro,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Second Layer,
The Monochrome Set,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Livin' Joy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kas Product,
The Moody Blues,
Urselle,
Slave,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Human League,
B.T. Express,
The Mummies,
Mission of Burma,
Erykah Badu,
Black Flag,
Barbara Tucker,
K-Klass,
John Foxx,
Electric Prunes,
Technova,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bootsy Collins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Arcadia,
The American Breed,
Loose Ends,
The Techniques,
Television,
Sam Rivers,
Desert Stars,
The Five Americans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mars,
Black Bananas,
Masters at Work,
Sound Behaviour,
The Mojo Men,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bauhaus,
Fluxion,
Monks,
Cal Tjader,
Fatback Band,
Max Romeo,
The Sound,
Janne Schatter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ludus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Monks,
Underground Resistance,
Alphaville,
Black Pus,
Spandau Ballet,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.