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 South Sudan and from Tehran.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Soft Cell,
The Human League,
The New Christs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Black Flag,
Jeff Mills,
Prince Buster,
Con Funk Shun,
The Doors,
Pere Ubu,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dennis Brown,
The Mojo Men,
Siglo XX,
Wire,
The Birthday Party,
Negative Approach,
Chrome,
Goldenarms,
Rufus Thomas,
The Kinks,
Excepter,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Neon Judgement,
The Tremeloes,
The Raincoats,
The Stooges,
The Shadows of Knight,
Swell Maps,
Crash Course in Science,
Television,
Isaac Hayes,
The American Breed,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ohio Players,
In Retrospect,
T. Rex,
Neu!,
Sister Nancy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
EPMD,
Girls At Our Best!,
Chris Corsano,
Drexciya,
Dual Sessions,
Tomorrow,
Harmonia,
Main Source,
Gang of Four,
Newcleus,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Last Poets,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oblivians,
The Buckinghams,
The Wake,
Mr. Review,
Jeff Lynne,
Matthew Bourne,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.