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 Mexico and from Sao Paulo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 Knickerbockers to the disco 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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Fear,
Parry Music,
Public Enemy,
Bush Tetras,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Angels of Light,
John Lydon,
Eric Copeland,
kango's stein massive,
Todd Rundgren,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yusef Lateef,
Can,
Suicide,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crime,
Negative Approach,
Cheater Slicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Martian,
The Smoke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bauhaus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
a-ha,
Jacob Miller,
Visage,
Guru Guru,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Lakeside,
In Retrospect,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Sonics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Leaves,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Echospace,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mo-Dettes,
Marc Almond,
Warren Ellis,
Max Romeo,
Camouflage,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Funky Four + One,
The Techniques,
Bill Near,
Rites of Spring,
Franke,
Magma,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grey Daturas,
Moebius,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jeff Mills,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Stooges,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Loose Ends,
Liliput,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.