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 Mali and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Glambeats Corp. to the rap 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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bobby Sherman,
The Searchers,
Fear,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pylon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boredoms,
Brothers Johnson,
Babytalk,
Skaos,
Dark Day,
Don Cherry,
Heaven 17,
Lower 48,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Andrew Hill,
Saccharine Trust,
Sight & Sound,
The Last Poets,
Joe Smooth,
Ohio Players,
The Sisters of Mercy,
David Axelrod,
Public Image Ltd.,
CMW,
Make Up,
Eurythmics,
Nico,
Metal Thangz,
Outsiders,
Kas Product,
Angry Samoans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Barbara Tucker,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Masters at Work,
The Cure,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Buzzcocks,
Brand Nubian,
Lakeside,
Swans,
These Immortal Souls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Idris Muhammad,
Moss Icon,
June of 44,
Eden Ahbez,
Tom Boy,
Matthew Halsall,
Mr. Review,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Con Funk Shun,
Dave Gahan,
Carl Craig,
Bootsy Collins,
Ultra Naté,
Robert Görl,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.