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 Guyana and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lungfish to the grime 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pantaleimon,
Rapeman,
Tomorrow,
Heaven 17,
Masters at Work,
Howard Jones,
Fatback Band,
ABBA,
Juan Atkins,
Bill Wells,
Arcadia,
Anakelly,
David McCallum,
Ice-T,
New Order,
Quando Quango,
cv313,
Erykah Badu,
The Zeros,
The Angels of Light,
10cc,
The Red Krayola,
X-102,
Infiniti,
The United States of America,
Jeru the Damaja,
Glenn Branca,
John Lydon,
the Human League,
Faust,
R.M.O.,
The Index,
Camberwell Now,
Reagan Youth,
Quantec,
Con Funk Shun,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gang Gang Dance,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gong,
James White and The Blacks,
Max Romeo,
The Raincoats,
Technova,
Ken Boothe,
the Slits,
Massinfluence,
Jeff Lynne,
Spandau Ballet,
The Move,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Avey Tare,
The Birthday Party,
U.S. Maple,
Bizarre Inc.,
Desert Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Colin Newman,
Hot Snakes,
Porter Ricks,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.