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 Seychelles and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 James White and The Blacks to the disco 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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
MDC,
Interpol,
Magazine,
Alison Limerick,
Lou Reed,
Jacob Miller,
Babytalk,
Yaz,
Easy Going,
Supertramp,
Blossom Toes,
Animal Collective,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sonny Sharrock,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
One Last Wish,
the Germs,
Todd Rundgren,
Aural Exciters,
Aloha Tigers,
The Music Machine,
Brand Nubian,
Gang of Four,
Television Personalities,
a-ha,
Monks,
Black Moon,
the Association,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Patti Smith,
Tears for Fears,
Masters at Work,
The Blues Magoos,
Nico,
Bronski Beat,
Zapp,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brass Construction,
The Neon Judgement,
Moebius,
Ornette Coleman,
the Normal,
The Monks,
Soulsonic Force,
Bang On A Can,
Fugazi,
the Human League,
Quadrant,
Essential Logic,
Oneida,
Jawbox,
U.S. Maple,
Duran Duran,
Niagra,
Erykah Badu,
Dark Day,
Bobby Sherman,
Blake Baxter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.