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 Austria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Electric Prunes to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Janne Schatter,
Nick Fraelich,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mr. Review,
Easy Going,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hashim,
Clear Light,
Sound Behaviour,
Josef K,
Rotary Connection,
Kurtis Blow,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Minny Pops,
Reagan Youth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yellowson,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
DNA,
Wire,
The Red Krayola,
The Pop Group,
the Normal,
Dawn Penn,
the Germs,
Angry Samoans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Avey Tare,
Connie Case,
Yaz,
Marine Girls,
Quantec,
Underground Resistance,
Sugar Minott,
The Moody Blues,
Matthew Bourne,
Y Pants,
The Gories,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lou Christie,
Young Marble Giants,
Ralphi Rosario,
H. Thieme,
The Buckinghams,
Marvin Gaye,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Divine Comedy,
Gong,
The Associates,
Jeff Mills,
Tomorrow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Absolute Body Control,
Brothers Johnson,
The Victims,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marshall Jefferson,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Misunderstood,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.