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 Comoros and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Laurel Aitken to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Q and Not U,
Pulsallama,
Pylon,
Anthony Braxton,
Faust,
One Last Wish,
Black Flag,
Quadrant,
Rakim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wings,
Young Marble Giants,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kerrie Biddell,
U.S. Maple,
Adolescents,
Faraquet,
Albert Ayler,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
June Days,
The Velvet Underground,
The Vogues,
Unrelated Segments,
David Axelrod,
This Heat,
H. Thieme,
Ludus,
Boz Scaggs,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Busters,
Angry Samoans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dawn Penn,
Erykah Badu,
a-ha,
Parry Music,
Desert Stars,
Davy DMX,
The Doors,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Massinfluence,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Count Five,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Smoke,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jeff Mills,
the Human League,
Gang Starr,
E-Dancer,
Charles Mingus,
Janne Schatter,
Blancmange,
Warsaw,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Icehouse,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.