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 Maldives and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Iggy Pop to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Leonard Cohen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Derrick Morgan,
ABC,
Clear Light,
Donny Hathaway,
Scientists,
Ornette Coleman,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Evens,
Malaria!,
Henry Cow,
Patti Smith,
Jerry's Kids,
Andrew Hill,
The J.B.'s,
Oblivians,
Basic Channel,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Raincoats,
Kayak,
Infiniti,
Crispy Ambulance,
Popol Vuh,
the Association,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Unwound,
Jawbox,
Eddi Front,
Bronski Beat,
Connie Case,
Buzzcocks,
Michelle Simonal,
Sun City Girls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Robert Hood,
Yellowson,
The Monks,
Althea and Donna,
Mary Jane Girls,
Erykah Badu,
Dawn Penn,
Pet Shop Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
Lyres,
John Holt,
Technova,
Tomorrow,
Organ,
Niagra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Foxx,
Babytalk,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kevin Saunderson,
Severed Heads,
Todd Terry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minutemen,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.