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 Accra.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Star Department to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Andrew Hill,
New Order,
Barrington Levy,
Chrome,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aural Exciters,
Deakin,
Supertramp,
Theoretical Girls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Soft Cell,
Lucky Dragons,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
Gil Scott Heron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pantaleimon,
Zapp,
The Fortunes,
Gang of Four,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Accadde A,
the Human League,
Idris Muhammad,
Robert Hood,
The Alarm Clocks,
Janne Schatter,
The Names,
The Mummies,
Swell Maps,
Radio Birdman,
Lower 48,
48th St. Collective,
Peter & Gordon,
The Human League,
The Golliwogs,
Reagan Youth,
Sound Behaviour,
DNA,
ABC,
Monolake,
Dave Gahan,
Jawbox,
Scrapy,
The Techniques,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soft Machine,
Bobby Sherman,
Quantec,
Underground Resistance,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eve St. Jones,
Colin Newman,
Aaron Thompson,
Prince Buster,
Scott Walker,
Eric Copeland,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.