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 Tajikistan and from Stockholm.
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 New York and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Boogie Down Productions to the electroclash 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deadbeat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soft Cell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultra Naté,
Dave Gahan,
Peter and Kerry,
Freddie Wadling,
Gichy Dan,
KRS-One,
Unwound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Maurizio,
Symarip,
Barrington Levy,
The Index,
Junior Murvin,
The J.B.'s,
Eric Dolphy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ossler,
Charles Mingus,
Skarface,
Nico,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Birthday Party,
Harry Pussy,
Aaron Thompson,
Guru Guru,
The United States of America,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Franke,
Parry Music,
JFA,
Funkadelic,
In Retrospect,
Altered Images,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Slits,
Joey Negro,
Black Bananas,
The Red Krayola,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tomorrow,
DJ Sneak,
Radiopuhelimet,
Davy DMX,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tommy Roe,
AZ,
Dennis Brown,
June Days,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Minny Pops,
Johnny Clarke,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sarah Menescal,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.