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 Estonia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
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 theremin 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 Symarip to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Brass Construction,
Pulsallama,
Scrapy,
The Black Dice,
Alice Coltrane,
Los Fastidios,
Gong,
Crime,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Matthew Bourne,
The Last Poets,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Iggy Pop,
Radio Birdman,
Visage,
Sound Behaviour,
The Birthday Party,
Swans,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tomorrow,
Parry Music,
ABBA,
Tres Demented,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Moss Icon,
Arab on Radar,
The Dirtbombs,
The Slits,
Masters at Work,
Piero Umiliani,
Robert Hood,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Moody Blues,
The Wake,
Black Flag,
June of 44,
The Golliwogs,
Mr. Review,
Sonic Youth,
Sun Ra,
Soulsonic Force,
Colin Newman,
The Sound,
DNA,
Lyres,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Basic Channel,
Stereo Dub,
One Last Wish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pharoah Sanders,
Radiohead,
Bill Wells,
Urselle,
Soft Cell,
Bob Dylan,
Moby Grape,
Ultra Naté,
Sällskapet,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.