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 Serbia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 808 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 cv313 to the crunk 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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Spandau Ballet,
Avey Tare,
Man Eating Sloth,
Josef K,
Mandrill,
Cal Tjader,
EPMD,
Suicide,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Red Krayola,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Robert Wyatt,
Minnie Riperton,
The Velvet Underground,
The Pretty Things,
The Remains,
Eric Copeland,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kool Moe Dee,
Moss Icon,
Los Fastidios,
Lalann,
AZ,
June Days,
The New Christs,
Can,
Wally Richardson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Das Ding,
Joy Division,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
R.M.O.,
Loose Ends,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Matthew Halsall,
Michelle Simonal,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Dirtbombs,
Man Parrish,
Nick Fraelich,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Kinks,
The Fall,
Soul II Soul,
Alice Coltrane,
Gong,
Eric B and Rakim,
Vladislav Delay,
Boredoms,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Harmonia,
Outsiders,
Rufus Thomas,
Slick Rick,
Saccharine Trust,
Talk Talk,
Bronski Beat,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Gun Club,
Dave Gahan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.