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 Liechtenstein and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Michael McDonald 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 John Foxx to the techno 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mojo Men record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alphaville,
Aaron Thompson,
Nik Kershaw,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Funky Four + One,
The New Christs,
Eric B and Rakim,
June of 44,
Laurel Aitken,
The Doors,
The Index,
Silicon Teens,
Minor Threat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Holt,
Deadbeat,
Nils Olav,
Judy Mowatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tommy Roe,
Pylon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Main Source,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Glenn Branca,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Echospace,
Goldenarms,
Porter Ricks,
Susan Cadogan,
X-102,
Soft Machine,
The American Breed,
Monolake,
Moby Grape,
The Alarm Clocks,
Public Enemy,
Archie Shepp,
Leonard Cohen,
Sun City Girls,
Cymande,
The Move,
Pierre Henry,
Eddi Front,
Q and Not U,
Jacques Brel,
Pagans,
Procol Harum,
Lee Hazlewood,
Duran Duran,
Heaven 17,
Marcia Griffiths,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skaos,
Wolf Eyes,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Yazoo,
X-Ray Spex,
John Foxx,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.