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 Malta and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Frankie Knuckles to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
ABC,
Camouflage,
Max Romeo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Moss Icon,
The Walker Brothers,
Cecil Taylor,
Pantytec,
The Shadows of Knight,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Stooges,
The Techniques,
Underground Resistance,
The Martian,
Leonard Cohen,
Nico,
The Fugs,
Bill Near,
Laurel Aitken,
The Selecter,
Man Eating Sloth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Brick,
Scrapy,
Robert Görl,
Pere Ubu,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Move,
The Standells,
Youth Brigade,
Angry Samoans,
X-102,
The Evens,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gang Green,
Roger Hodgson,
David Bowie,
DJ Style,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Erasure,
Boredoms,
Alphaville,
Junior Murvin,
Los Fastidios,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Negative Approach,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Khruangbin,
Chris Corsano,
Excepter,
Public Image Ltd.,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Bar-Kays,
Chrome,
Sparks,
Crooked Eye,
Monolake,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.