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 Bhutan and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Blancmange to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Flag,
The Selecter,
Excepter,
Can,
The Fuzztones,
Jacob Miller,
AZ,
June of 44,
Aswad,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang Green,
Peter and Kerry,
Scrapy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lyres,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aural Exciters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hasil Adkins,
Masters at Work,
the Normal,
The Searchers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bang On A Can,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joy Division,
Audionom,
Lou Christie,
Sugar Minott,
John Coltrane,
Shoche,
Todd Terry,
Suicide,
The Invisible,
The Trojans,
Robert Wyatt,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Delon & Dalcan,
Junior Murvin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultra Naté,
Colin Newman,
Whodini,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fluxion,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Crime,
K-Klass,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rotary Connection,
Groovy Waters,
Buzzcocks,
Funky Four + One,
Rites of Spring,
The Angels of Light,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Underground Resistance,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.