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 Portugal and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer 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 Au Pairs to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Yazoo,
Agent Orange,
Traffic Nightmare,
Accadde A,
Harry Pussy,
Pagans,
Alphaville,
The Skatalites,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Toni Rubio,
Soul II Soul,
Brick,
Liliput,
Freddie Wadling,
Marvin Gaye,
Godley & Creme,
Country Teasers,
The Trojans,
Mandrill,
Funky Four + One,
Avey Tare,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Los Fastidios,
Gang Starr,
The Raincoats,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Index,
the Germs,
Aaron Thompson,
Camberwell Now,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Seeds,
Inner City,
The Fall,
Big Daddy Kane,
Surgeon,
Aswad,
Black Pus,
Aural Exciters,
Duran Duran,
Pantaleimon,
JFA,
T. Rex,
Iggy Pop,
Kurtis Blow,
Blancmange,
PIL,
The Sound,
Ice-T,
Bootsy Collins,
Drexciya,
Altered Images,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Groovy Waters,
The Fuzztones,
The Knickerbockers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jawbox,
Von Mondo,
The Real Kids,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.