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 Mauritania and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 X-101 to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Stiv Bators,
The Victims,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Five Americans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Absolute Body Control,
Dawn Penn,
Sound Behaviour,
Stetsasonic,
Chrome,
Roy Ayers,
The Last Poets,
Pierre Henry,
Bad Manners,
Infiniti,
Albert Ayler,
Can,
Bronski Beat,
Archie Shepp,
Franke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Quantec,
Trumans Water,
The Stooges,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Derrick Morgan,
Monolake,
The Remains,
Jimmy McGriff,
Judy Mowatt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ludus,
Cecil Taylor,
Colin Newman,
Youth Brigade,
Quadrant,
The Star Department,
Sugar Minott,
Bang On A Can,
Section 25,
Sandy B,
Tubeway Army,
The Invisible,
Electric Prunes,
Eric Copeland,
The Black Dice,
Second Layer,
Joensuu 1685,
Urselle,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Busters,
Lungfish,
Dave Gahan,
Howard Jones,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Flash Fearless,
Scott Walker,
Roger Hodgson,
The Move,
FM Einheit,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.