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 Malaysia and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Index to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
B.T. Express,
Man Eating Sloth,
Maleditus Sound,
Trumans Water,
Sam Rivers,
Amon Düül,
Dennis Brown,
R.M.O.,
Robert Görl,
Barrington Levy,
Index,
Aural Exciters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Goldenarms,
Frankie Knuckles,
Blossom Toes,
La Düsseldorf,
Drexciya,
New Age Steppers,
Bad Manners,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Germs,
Intrusion,
Warsaw,
UT,
The Black Dice,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Amazonics,
One Last Wish,
Thompson Twins,
Roy Ayers,
Camberwell Now,
Junior Murvin,
Shoche,
Yellowson,
Nas,
Jeru the Damaja,
DJ Sneak,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fugazi,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Arcadia,
The Beau Brummels,
F. McDonald,
Charles Mingus,
Crooked Eye,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Warren Ellis,
Television Personalities,
Technova,
Panda Bear,
The Smoke,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Donny Hathaway,
Glenn Branca,
Ten City,
Cybotron,
kango's stein massive,
The Offenders,
Ohio Players,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.