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 Belarus and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Seeds to the techno 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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton 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 '80s 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 Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Cameo,
Swans,
Masters at Work,
The Velvet Underground,
Piero Umiliani,
Minutemen,
8 Eyed Spy,
Circle Jerks,
New York Dolls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Erasure,
Accadde A,
The Saints,
The Five Americans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Amon Düül II,
Black Bananas,
Minnie Riperton,
Tears for Fears,
Goldenarms,
Index,
Judy Mowatt,
D'Angelo,
Man Parrish,
The Buckinghams,
Soft Cell,
Visage,
The Monochrome Set,
Juan Atkins,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Gories,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Suburban Knight,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Isaac Hayes,
Organ,
Nick Fraelich,
Moebius,
The Misunderstood,
The Last Poets,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Con Funk Shun,
Warren Ellis,
Y Pants,
Unrelated Segments,
Nik Kershaw,
Pierre Henry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hashim,
Grey Daturas,
Chrome,
Cheater Slicks,
Yusef Lateef,
Slave,
Idris Muhammad,
Drexciya,
Roxy Music,
Amon Düül,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.