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 Liechtenstein and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pierre Henry to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Soft Cell,
the Slits,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joe Finger,
Icehouse,
Gang Starr,
Crooked Eye,
Patti Smith,
Joensuu 1685,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Idris Muhammad,
Kevin Saunderson,
Circle Jerks,
New Order,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Can,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bill Near,
Country Teasers,
Con Funk Shun,
Graham Central Station,
Leonard Cohen,
The Gladiators,
Bizarre Inc.,
Zapp,
Radio Birdman,
Outsiders,
Nik Kershaw,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kool Moe Dee,
Talk Talk,
Drexciya,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rapeman,
Lyres,
AZ,
Gang of Four,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barrington Levy,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fire Engines,
Main Source,
Barry Ungar,
Connie Case,
Moebius,
Black Bananas,
Hashim,
Chris & Cosey,
The Human League,
Gong,
Spandau Ballet,
Quadrant,
F. McDonald,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dark Day,
Nils Olav,
Eric B and Rakim,
Isaac Hayes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.