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 Fiji and from Madrid.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Idris Muhammad to the funk 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Tears for Fears,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fire Engines,
Amon Düül II,
Jandek,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Aural Exciters,
Rod Modell,
Faraquet,
The Cramps,
Faust,
Hashim,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bush Tetras,
Hot Snakes,
Zapp,
Au Pairs,
Newcleus,
Liliput,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Barracudas,
Public Enemy,
The Misunderstood,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Walker Brothers,
Fatback Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dead Boys,
The Index,
Ohio Players,
Radio Birdman,
Main Source,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Boz Scaggs,
Sound Behaviour,
Warren Ellis,
Johnny Osbourne,
Howard Jones,
Yusef Lateef,
The Human League,
These Immortal Souls,
D'Angelo,
Harry Pussy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Franke,
David Axelrod,
Das Ding,
Swell Maps,
Carl Craig,
Sight & Sound,
Lyres,
John Holt,
The Skatalites,
EPMD,
Joe Smooth,
John Foxx,
Jerry's Kids,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.