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 Syria and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 EPMD to the rock 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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Masters at Work,
Infiniti,
Traffic Nightmare,
Banda Bassotti,
Pantaleimon,
Babytalk,
The Litter,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Sound,
D'Angelo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ornette Coleman,
The Mojo Men,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
New Age Steppers,
The Count Five,
F. McDonald,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joyce Sims,
Anakelly,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Maurizio,
Spoonie Gee,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lou Reed,
Matthew Bourne,
Roxette,
Archie Shepp,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jacques Brel,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Blossom Toes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Bar-Kays,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Index,
Basic Channel,
Kurtis Blow,
Bad Manners,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Moody Blues,
Robert Wyatt,
Hashim,
The Searchers,
Duran Duran,
Whodini,
Reuben Wilson,
New Order,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blancmange,
Stereo Dub,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gong,
John Lydon,
Donald Byrd,
Moss Icon,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.