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 Italy and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro 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 The Fortunes to the dance 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Infiniti,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Kinks,
Wings,
Buzzcocks,
The Music Machine,
Joe Smooth,
Los Fastidios,
Soft Machine,
Sarah Menescal,
The Real Kids,
Spoonie Gee,
One Last Wish,
The Tremeloes,
Adolescents,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
John Cale,
Section 25,
The Motions,
Marvin Gaye,
Chris Corsano,
X-Ray Spex,
Yazoo,
B.T. Express,
Gabor Szabo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Au Pairs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Hot Snakes,
James White and The Blacks,
The Martian,
New Order,
Barbara Tucker,
Mad Mike,
Jandek,
Roxette,
Bobby Womack,
Camouflage,
cv313,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Robert Wyatt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
X-102,
The Associates,
the Soft Cell,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Maleditus Sound,
Drexciya,
The Leaves,
Derrick Morgan,
The Cure,
Quadrant,
Slave,
Soft Cell,
Sexual Harrassment,
La Düsseldorf,
Davy DMX,
The Gap Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Hashim,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.