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 Korea North and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb 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 Goldenarms to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Alton Ellis,
R.M.O.,
Monks,
Slick Rick,
The Flesh Eaters,
Oneida,
Tears for Fears,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marmalade,
Second Layer,
The Beau Brummels,
Kaleidoscope,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Todd Terry,
Mr. Review,
Sixth Finger,
Scion,
Crooked Eye,
Harmonia,
Rapeman,
John Lydon,
Talk Talk,
Reagan Youth,
H. Thieme,
Anakelly,
Roxette,
the Soft Cell,
Electric Prunes,
The Monks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeff Lynne,
The Birthday Party,
Shuggie Otis,
The Names,
Porter Ricks,
Mantronix,
Fela Kuti,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Laurel Aitken,
Man Parrish,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Cramps,
In Retrospect,
Marine Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
David Axelrod,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brothers Johnson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Sonics,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tim Buckley,
Ten City,
Sugar Minott,
Alice Coltrane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Techniques,
Cal Tjader,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.