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 Nigeria and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 funk 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 Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Pulsallama,
The Litter,
Jeru the Damaja,
FM Einheit,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sound Behaviour,
Marshall Jefferson,
Basic Channel,
Anthony Braxton,
Pussy Galore,
The Mojo Men,
The Fugs,
Hashim,
48th St. Collective,
Desert Stars,
Theoretical Girls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ice-T,
Lalann,
The Neon Judgement,
Erykah Badu,
Bill Wells,
the Sonics,
The Moody Blues,
Deakin,
The J.B.'s,
David Axelrod,
Rotary Connection,
The Happenings,
The Smiths,
New York Dolls,
Ohio Players,
Robert Hood,
The Blackbyrds,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Procol Harum,
Ronan,
Quando Quango,
DJ Style,
Tres Demented,
Tomorrow,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Suicide,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bill Near,
Mad Mike,
Kaleidoscope,
Jerry's Kids,
Pantaleimon,
Peter & Gordon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pylon,
The Slackers,
Sonic Youth,
the Association,
Rapeman,
Livin' Joy,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.