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 Angola and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Juan Atkins to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Star Department,
Bang On A Can,
Camouflage,
The Red Krayola,
Con Funk Shun,
David Axelrod,
Shoche,
Sun City Girls,
Robert Görl,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joe Finger,
Metal Thangz,
Tim Buckley,
Gang of Four,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Electric Prunes,
Wire,
The Misunderstood,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Boz Scaggs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kurtis Blow,
Guru Guru,
Kas Product,
Little Man,
Bush Tetras,
the Swans,
a-ha,
Loose Ends,
Mr. Review,
John Coltrane,
Tom Boy,
Gang Green,
The Remains,
The Knickerbockers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Procol Harum,
One Last Wish,
Anthony Braxton,
James White and The Blacks,
The Monochrome Set,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Happenings,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tomorrow,
Davy DMX,
Popol Vuh,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Erasure,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scott Walker,
The Fortunes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Leaves,
Nick Fraelich,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.