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 Sierra Leone 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the 808 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 Maleditus Sound to the techno 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hasil Adkins,
Pulsallama,
Dead Boys,
Fat Boys,
Brick,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Procol Harum,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Glenn Branca,
The Tremeloes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crooked Eye,
Sugar Minott,
Skarface,
The Golliwogs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Brand Nubian,
These Immortal Souls,
Vladislav Delay,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Barry Ungar,
Mr. Review,
Barrington Levy,
Chris & Cosey,
Lee Hazlewood,
X-102,
Neu!,
Franke,
Suburban Knight,
Qualms,
Reagan Youth,
Parry Music,
Robert Hood,
UT,
Marcia Griffiths,
Saccharine Trust,
Duran Duran,
Chrome,
Lindisfarne,
Boredoms,
Trumans Water,
The Slits,
Stereo Dub,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marvin Gaye,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pole,
Rosa Yemen,
Au Pairs,
Ronnie Foster,
Bronski Beat,
Pagans,
The Skatalites,
Loose Ends,
New Age Steppers,
Nik Kershaw,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
ABC,
LL Cool J,
Model 500,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.