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 Benin and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 Fluxion to the disco 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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Offenders,
Albert Ayler,
Section 25,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joey Negro,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Kinks,
Excepter,
Kenny Larkin,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Arthur Verocai,
Rakim,
Television Personalities,
the Soft Cell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nils Olav,
Slick Rick,
Stetsasonic,
Theoretical Girls,
The Dave Clark Five,
JFA,
Leonard Cohen,
Television,
Graham Central Station,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jeff Lynne,
Severed Heads,
Stereo Dub,
Spoonie Gee,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Toni Rubio,
John Foxx,
Wolf Eyes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ultravox,
Sound Behaviour,
Derrick Morgan,
Skarface,
Janne Schatter,
Nik Kershaw,
Tim Buckley,
Sister Nancy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pet Shop Boys,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
E-Dancer,
ABBA,
Aural Exciters,
The Modern Lovers,
Eddi Front,
Whodini,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sun Ra,
Heaven 17,
The Shadows of Knight,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.