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 Seoul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin 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 The Tremeloes to the dance 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Kenny Larkin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Moby Grape,
Bobby Womack,
The Electric Prunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Slick Rick,
Echospace,
Blossom Toes,
Q and Not U,
Erasure,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rapeman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Barry Ungar,
Mo-Dettes,
Spandau Ballet,
Josef K,
The Vogues,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Barracudas,
Pagans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Andrew Hill,
Lindisfarne,
Joey Negro,
The Tremeloes,
Iggy Pop,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
OOIOO,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The New Christs,
Gang of Four,
Von Mondo,
T.S.O.L.,
Faraquet,
Don Cherry,
John Holt,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Infiniti,
Lungfish,
The Sonics,
Crooked Eye,
10cc,
Soft Cell,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mojo Men,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ossler,
Siglo XX,
The Move,
Rotary Connection,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Johnny Clarke,
Soulsonic Force,
The Detroit Cobras,
Audionom,
Joyce Sims,
Sister Nancy,
The Blues Magoos,
Fear,
Gichy Dan,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.