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 Algeria and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Terrestrial Tones to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Larry & the Blue Notes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
The Victims,
Yazoo,
The Raincoats,
Scrapy,
PIL,
Terrestrial Tones,
Severed Heads,
The Index,
The Martian,
Fat Boys,
Skriet,
Godley & Creme,
The Red Krayola,
Carl Craig,
K-Klass,
Sam Rivers,
Bronski Beat,
The Star Department,
The Skatalites,
KRS-One,
Toni Rubio,
Metal Thangz,
Sandy B,
Aswad,
DNA,
The Last Poets,
Howard Jones,
Angry Samoans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pantytec,
The Pretty Things,
Q65,
Todd Rundgren,
Vainqueur,
Fear,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Banda Bassotti,
Boz Scaggs,
Inner City,
Make Up,
Minutemen,
Smog,
Deadbeat,
Rosa Yemen,
The Gun Club,
The Golliwogs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Swans,
Wings,
Gang of Four,
The Remains,
Youth Brigade,
Monolake,
Hashim,
Glambeats Corp.,
Radiohead,
Popol Vuh,
Marine Girls,
Jeff Mills,
Chris Corsano,
10cc,
Cecil Taylor,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.