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 Chile and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Robert Görl to the crunk 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Thompson Twins,
Charles Mingus,
a-ha,
Aaron Thompson,
Half Japanese,
Jawbox,
Das Ding,
B.T. Express,
Joy Division,
Alice Coltrane,
Monolake,
Rapeman,
Lou Christie,
Desert Stars,
The Mummies,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Johnny Clarke,
The Golliwogs,
Ohio Players,
The Barracudas,
Babytalk,
the Slits,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pulsallama,
The Busters,
Echospace,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wings,
Audionom,
the Swans,
Gong,
Ten City,
MDC,
Josef K,
Minnie Riperton,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bootsy Collins,
The Selecter,
The Angels of Light,
Make Up,
John Foxx,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Toni Rubio,
The Tremeloes,
The Litter,
Inner City,
Q and Not U,
Ralphi Rosario,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Chris & Cosey,
cv313,
Kool Moe Dee,
Agent Orange,
Morten Harket,
New Age Steppers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.