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 Barbados and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Vladislav Delay to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Livin' Joy,
Rosa Yemen,
Terrestrial Tones,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Byrd,
Pussy Galore,
Fluxion,
Adolescents,
The Velvet Underground,
Gabor Szabo,
The Real Kids,
The Grass Roots,
Bootsy Collins,
Cluster,
Roger Hodgson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Standells,
The Electric Prunes,
Stereo Dub,
Skriet,
Funkadelic,
Underground Resistance,
Interpol,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scott Walker,
The Blackbyrds,
Brick,
Crispian St. Peters,
Quadrant,
Niagra,
Thompson Twins,
Thee Headcoats,
Susan Cadogan,
Funky Four + One,
The Buckinghams,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Germs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Infiniti,
Depeche Mode,
Crooked Eye,
Warsaw,
Nico,
Nirvana,
The Slits,
Marvin Gaye,
Altered Images,
Ossler,
Magazine,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joey Negro,
ABBA,
Swans,
Suicide,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ten City,
Reuben Wilson,
LL Cool J,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.