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 Uzbekistan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 rhodes 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 Shoche to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
The Real Kids,
Harry Pussy,
Toni Rubio,
The Gories,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Soft Cell,
Sonny Sharrock,
Supertramp,
Bootsy Collins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
OOIOO,
Oneida,
Adolescents,
Eden Ahbez,
The Music Machine,
The Mojo Men,
Neu!,
The Five Americans,
Camouflage,
Josef K,
Audionom,
John Lydon,
Aural Exciters,
Tomorrow,
Franke,
Vainqueur,
Marine Girls,
The Stooges,
Royal Trux,
The Doors,
Bobby Womack,
Wally Richardson,
Von Mondo,
Avey Tare,
Organ,
The Velvet Underground,
The Remains,
Skriet,
Soft Machine,
Aswad,
Severed Heads,
Judy Mowatt,
The Victims,
T. Rex,
Sugar Minott,
Desert Stars,
The Shadows of Knight,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sällskapet,
Dead Boys,
Schoolly D,
Blake Baxter,
Reagan Youth,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Byrd,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultra Naté,
Mad Mike,
Robert Hood,
Joy Division,
Shoche,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.