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 Bahrain and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Beijing.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
MC5,
Khruangbin,
Connie Case,
The Golliwogs,
The Kinks,
Pagans,
Barry Ungar,
Quantec,
ABC,
The Fire Engines,
Suicide,
Roxy Music,
Urselle,
The Cowsills,
Marine Girls,
Aaron Thompson,
Andrew Hill,
Scrapy,
The Residents,
Silicon Teens,
Icehouse,
The Monks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Juan Atkins,
Black Flag,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mo-Dettes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Neil Young,
Jeff Mills,
The J.B.'s,
Boz Scaggs,
Graham Central Station,
Cecil Taylor,
the Human League,
New York Dolls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Matthew Bourne,
Q and Not U,
Fela Kuti,
The Music Machine,
Eurythmics,
The Count Five,
Pantytec,
Peter & Gordon,
The Martian,
The Gap Band,
Eric Copeland,
The Grass Roots,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Yaz,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Five Americans,
Ken Boothe,
The Skatalites,
Amazonics,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Roy Ayers,
Camouflage,
Moby Grape,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.