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 Uruguay and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Essential Logic to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Byrd,
Silicon Teens,
Joey Negro,
Sparks,
Marine Girls,
The Index,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Oneida,
Popol Vuh,
Model 500,
Parry Music,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jawbox,
a-ha,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Durutti Column,
Kayak,
Soft Machine,
Matthew Halsall,
Henry Cow,
The Smiths,
Minnie Riperton,
Lee Hazlewood,
10cc,
Deadbeat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Selecter,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Zeros,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fat Boys,
The Blues Magoos,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tom Boy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Bar-Kays,
Slave,
Black Pus,
Sonic Youth,
The Remains,
Fugazi,
Traffic Nightmare,
Panda Bear,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Chris & Cosey,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scrapy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nick Fraelich,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Josef K,
Sex Pistols,
JFA,
Flipper,
Joe Smooth,
The Sonics,
Eli Mardock,
Section 25,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.