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 Turkmenistan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Kerrie Biddell to the punk 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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Suicide,
Don Cherry,
Yusef Lateef,
Magazine,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Wake,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Darondo,
Marc Almond,
AZ,
Bill Near,
Erasure,
Spandau Ballet,
Scott Walker,
The Music Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Beau Brummels,
Bobby Womack,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sam Rivers,
The Shadows of Knight,
ABBA,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Todd Terry,
Dave Gahan,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Skatalites,
Albert Ayler,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Throbbing Gristle,
Faust,
Vainqueur,
Juan Atkins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Grass Roots,
Fluxion,
Shoche,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Bananas,
Depeche Mode,
ABC,
Toni Rubio,
Nirvana,
Maurizio,
David Bowie,
The Black Dice,
EPMD,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Little Man,
Big Daddy Kane,
Reagan Youth,
Nico,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Stereo Dub,
Moebius,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.