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 Gabon and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes 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 The Smiths to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Monks,
The Leaves,
John Foxx,
Duran Duran,
Sparks,
Vladislav Delay,
The Searchers,
Eric Copeland,
Cecil Taylor,
The Evens,
The Sound,
the Bar-Kays,
Roxy Music,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Sherman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Real Kids,
Bang On A Can,
Fatback Band,
New York Dolls,
Johnny Clarke,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
MC5,
Letta Mbulu,
Warsaw,
Radio Birdman,
Black Pus,
The Black Dice,
Minutemen,
The Modern Lovers,
Bronski Beat,
Desert Stars,
Black Bananas,
Malaria!,
Cybotron,
Tim Buckley,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sarah Menescal,
Neil Young,
Boredoms,
Pantaleimon,
The United States of America,
Deadbeat,
Sällskapet,
Gang Starr,
Hardrive,
Ultimate Spinach,
Oblivians,
The Names,
Electric Prunes,
Lalann,
Absolute Body Control,
June of 44,
Black Sheep,
The Busters,
The Martian,
Gang Green,
Schoolly D,
Peter and Kerry,
K-Klass,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.