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 Honduras 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bad Manners to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
the Association,
Connie Case,
Terry Callier,
Bush Tetras,
David McCallum,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Porter Ricks,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fugs,
Sun City Girls,
Dark Day,
Roy Ayers,
Essential Logic,
Delon & Dalcan,
Godley & Creme,
Dave Gahan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lakeside,
The Slackers,
The Golliwogs,
Pulsallama,
Pharoah Sanders,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Pus,
kango's stein massive,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mars,
The Buckinghams,
Radio Birdman,
The Music Machine,
Sight & Sound,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tears for Fears,
Niagra,
The Techniques,
Robert Wyatt,
Heaven 17,
Ronan,
Deadbeat,
Soft Cell,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Yellowson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camberwell Now,
Oneida,
Index,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sugar Minott,
Angry Samoans,
Make Up,
The Birthday Party,
Public Image Ltd.,
Reagan Youth,
Animal Collective,
Black Moon,
Derrick May,
Second Layer,
Bill Near,
Lightning Bolt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.