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 Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare 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 Kerrie Biddell to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes 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 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Minnie Riperton,
Qualms,
T. Rex,
Drexciya,
Joensuu 1685,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Swans,
Scrapy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Panda Bear,
Accadde A,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marmalade,
Barrington Levy,
The Move,
Freddie Wadling,
Vladislav Delay,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kerrie Biddell,
Skarface,
Jimmy McGriff,
One Last Wish,
The Skatalites,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Neil Young,
Second Layer,
FM Einheit,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dave Gahan,
The Mojo Men,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Thee Headcoats,
Con Funk Shun,
The Victims,
Lightning Bolt,
Depeche Mode,
Pylon,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Sherman,
Erasure,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric Copeland,
Brand Nubian,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Crispy Ambulance,
Banda Bassotti,
Monolake,
Hoover,
Wasted Youth,
Tom Boy,
Ronnie Foster,
Eden Ahbez,
Unrelated Segments,
Alphaville,
Magma,
Robert Görl,
The Misunderstood,
Moss Icon,
Delta 5,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.