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 Ivory Coast and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator 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 Jawbox to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mission of Burma,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rapeman,
Bizarre Inc.,
Aural Exciters,
Harry Pussy,
The Zeros,
Wally Richardson,
Heaven 17,
Visage,
The Dirtbombs,
Slave,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Matthew Bourne,
Donald Byrd,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Nation of Ulysses,
H. Thieme,
Cecil Taylor,
Ice-T,
The Beau Brummels,
Blossom Toes,
Soft Cell,
Jacob Miller,
Black Flag,
EPMD,
Silicon Teens,
The Victims,
Sex Pistols,
Unrelated Segments,
John Lydon,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Brass Construction,
Scrapy,
These Immortal Souls,
The Slits,
The Misunderstood,
Lalo Schifrin,
Urselle,
The J.B.'s,
Joey Negro,
Brothers Johnson,
Tears for Fears,
Gichy Dan,
Hot Snakes,
Delta 5,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Warsaw,
Sandy B,
Newcleus,
a-ha,
Howard Jones,
Q and Not U,
Byron Stingily,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Seeds,
Al Stewart,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.