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 Guatemala 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the rock 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Crispy Ambulance,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Neu!,
Terrestrial Tones,
JFA,
Faust,
Johnny Clarke,
Vladislav Delay,
Amon Düül,
OOIOO,
Rotary Connection,
Sound Behaviour,
The Victims,
Outsiders,
Clear Light,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joey Negro,
One Last Wish,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Yazoo,
Colin Newman,
Erykah Badu,
Pole,
Faraquet,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Sherman,
Traffic Nightmare,
Swell Maps,
Ohio Players,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Dead C,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Second Layer,
Jacob Miller,
Soft Machine,
Crash Course in Science,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Massinfluence,
Zero Boys,
The Birthday Party,
Soft Cell,
Gang Green,
Marine Girls,
The Smoke,
Young Marble Giants,
Public Enemy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Junior Murvin,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Slits,
Q and Not U,
The Doors,
Frankie Knuckles,
ABBA,
Gichy Dan,
Excepter,
Sight & Sound,
China Crisis,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lightning Bolt,
kango's stein massive,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.