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 Venezuela and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 The Dead C to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Liliput,
Smog,
Joy Division,
a-ha,
Marcia Griffiths,
Suicide,
Delon & Dalcan,
X-102,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Radiohead,
Y Pants,
Pere Ubu,
Nick Fraelich,
Wally Richardson,
Moebius,
The Victims,
Jeff Mills,
Josef K,
Cal Tjader,
Lebanon Hanover,
Malaria!,
Sparks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hot Snakes,
Wire,
Jeff Lynne,
Saccharine Trust,
Crime,
Pantaleimon,
Anakelly,
Country Teasers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eric Dolphy,
H. Thieme,
Marvin Gaye,
The Invisible,
Unwound,
Roxy Music,
Das Ding,
Basic Channel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Technova,
The Young Rascals,
The Dead C,
Roxette,
A Certain Ratio,
Goldenarms,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cosmic Jokers,
One Last Wish,
Fluxion,
Crispy Ambulance,
Chris & Cosey,
Q and Not U,
Sun Ra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ten City,
Althea and Donna,
Fugazi,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.