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 Latvia and from Edmonton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Alison Limerick to the funk 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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Urselle,
Spoonie Gee,
Dual Sessions,
Scion,
Hot Snakes,
Minor Threat,
Yazoo,
Suicide,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Smog,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gladiators,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kaleidoscope,
Anakelly,
The Cowsills,
Fatback Band,
Lou Reed,
The Doors,
Yusef Lateef,
Circle Jerks,
Man Parrish,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scan 7,
Infiniti,
Duran Duran,
The New Christs,
X-102,
Con Funk Shun,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Robert Hood,
Reuben Wilson,
Soul II Soul,
The Real Kids,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eric Copeland,
Interpol,
The Cure,
Swell Maps,
The Stooges,
AZ,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Slits,
The Busters,
Roxette,
Susan Cadogan,
Sandy B,
ABBA,
The Moody Blues,
Liliput,
Andrew Hill,
Sister Nancy,
Skaos,
Fela Kuti,
Davy DMX,
The Music Machine,
Easy Going,
Cameo,
The Fortunes,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.