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 Uruguay and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ohio Players to the rap 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
Al Stewart,
Piero Umiliani,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Angry Samoans,
Malaria!,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wings,
Davy DMX,
D'Angelo,
Niagra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bauhaus,
Bronski Beat,
Sonic Youth,
The Names,
Alison Limerick,
Fad Gadget,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dennis Brown,
Audionom,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pantytec,
Panda Bear,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Desert Stars,
Marmalade,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Moody Blues,
Yazoo,
U.S. Maple,
Aloha Tigers,
Tears for Fears,
Tom Boy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pantaleimon,
The Fugs,
Das Ding,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Pus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tomorrow,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vainqueur,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kaleidoscope,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harmonia,
The Move,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sound Behaviour,
Dawn Penn,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
DJ Sneak,
Half Japanese,
Fela Kuti,
The Pop Group,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.