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 Kenya and from Lyon.
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 Tokyo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Monolake to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Cymande,
The Beau Brummels,
Nick Fraelich,
Moebius,
Bush Tetras,
Circle Jerks,
Thompson Twins,
Marine Girls,
Black Pus,
Make Up,
Tubeway Army,
The Busters,
Rosa Yemen,
The Real Kids,
Sun Ra,
The Divine Comedy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Hardrive,
The Mojo Men,
Infiniti,
Hasil Adkins,
The Residents,
T. Rex,
Arcadia,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Darondo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Black Bananas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Pretty Things,
Eurythmics,
Spoonie Gee,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eve St. Jones,
Boz Scaggs,
Avey Tare,
This Heat,
Basic Channel,
Black Sheep,
Jeff Mills,
Silicon Teens,
The Litter,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Germs,
The Remains,
Yusef Lateef,
Dead Boys,
Max Romeo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Junior Murvin,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Absolute Body Control,
Davy DMX,
Bizarre Inc.,
Funkadelic,
Gang of Four,
Outsiders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.