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 Portugal and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 The Golliwogs to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The Detroit Cobras,
Agent Orange,
U.S. Maple,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cal Tjader,
The Smiths,
Boz Scaggs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Parry Music,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
DJ Style,
Qualms,
Sun City Girls,
The Busters,
Don Cherry,
The Blackbyrds,
the Swans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ice-T,
New Order,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Yaz,
Bronski Beat,
A Certain Ratio,
The Knickerbockers,
The Names,
Quantec,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dave Gahan,
Ronnie Foster,
The Velvet Underground,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hardrive,
Eric Dolphy,
Al Stewart,
Delta 5,
Babytalk,
Anakelly,
Rod Modell,
Liliput,
a-ha,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Monolake,
Kayak,
Ludus,
Cluster,
Jeff Mills,
The Sound,
Symarip,
The Slits,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roxette,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deakin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dual Sessions,
Swans,
Kurtis Blow,
Eli Mardock,
Average White Band,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.