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 Lebanon and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron 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 Throbbing Gristle to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Spoonie Gee,
MC5,
Pere Ubu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Inner City,
Joe Finger,
Terry Callier,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Toasters,
Altered Images,
Hardrive,
World's Most,
K-Klass,
The Black Dice,
Kerri Chandler,
The Dead C,
Sister Nancy,
Jacques Brel,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Liliput,
The Mummies,
The Mojo Men,
The Selecter,
The Walker Brothers,
Gabor Szabo,
Chris & Cosey,
Malaria!,
Mars,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sound,
The Detroit Cobras,
LL Cool J,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mantronix,
The Gladiators,
Saccharine Trust,
John Foxx,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bronski Beat,
Cymande,
EPMD,
Connie Case,
Matthew Bourne,
Television Personalities,
Metal Thangz,
Sound Behaviour,
The Martian,
Ossler,
Magazine,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Darondo,
Rites of Spring,
Half Japanese,
Minny Pops,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.