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 Cyprus and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 mellotron 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 X-101 to the grime 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti 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 crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Kerri Chandler,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
a-ha,
48th St. Collective,
Ronnie Foster,
Skriet,
The Invisible,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sparks,
Pole,
Letta Mbulu,
The Leaves,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lucky Dragons,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Todd Rundgren,
The Fugs,
Patti Smith,
Cal Tjader,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
MDC,
Steve Hackett,
Matthew Halsall,
Oblivians,
The Last Poets,
Suburban Knight,
cv313,
Fatback Band,
Oneida,
The Blackbyrds,
Erasure,
Angry Samoans,
Au Pairs,
Bob Dylan,
Depeche Mode,
Amazonics,
Circle Jerks,
Eli Mardock,
Tres Demented,
Scion,
Livin' Joy,
Quando Quango,
Janne Schatter,
Traffic Nightmare,
Q and Not U,
Drexciya,
The Star Department,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Doors,
Tom Boy,
Infiniti,
The Barracudas,
Prince Buster,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marshall Jefferson,
Warren Ellis,
Smog,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.