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 Kyrgyzstan and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe 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 Soul Sonic Force to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lower 48,
Kenny Larkin,
K-Klass,
AZ,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Grass Roots,
Robert Görl,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sun Ra,
The Gun Club,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Iggy Pop,
Livin' Joy,
Popol Vuh,
Faust,
Parry Music,
Judy Mowatt,
The Evens,
Grauzone,
the Soft Cell,
The Selecter,
Animal Collective,
The Vogues,
Max Romeo,
Aural Exciters,
Gang of Four,
Porter Ricks,
Rites of Spring,
the Swans,
Patti Smith,
Laurel Aitken,
Steve Hackett,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hardrive,
Joey Negro,
Lou Christie,
Procol Harum,
Yazoo,
Rod Modell,
Byron Stingily,
The Fire Engines,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Minor Threat,
Arcadia,
Kevin Saunderson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bush Tetras,
Brick,
Henry Cow,
Letta Mbulu,
Arthur Verocai,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Raincoats,
ABC,
The Fuzztones,
Depeche Mode,
Ronan,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.