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 Malta and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Absolute Body Control to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bush Tetras,
Dawn Penn,
Suburban Knight,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Technova,
Wasted Youth,
Moss Icon,
Ken Boothe,
Organ,
The Fire Engines,
X-Ray Spex,
The Cure,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Agent Orange,
Unrelated Segments,
Danielle Patucci,
Sex Pistols,
Parry Music,
Ronnie Foster,
Boredoms,
Don Cherry,
Susan Cadogan,
Index,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Barclay James Harvest,
Can,
Lou Reed,
Half Japanese,
Crispy Ambulance,
Man Parrish,
The United States of America,
Albert Ayler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Avey Tare,
Outsiders,
Minutemen,
Arcadia,
Whodini,
MDC,
Lebanon Hanover,
Con Funk Shun,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Carl Craig,
UT,
Eli Mardock,
AZ,
Basic Channel,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Moleskins,
Reagan Youth,
Heaven 17,
The Mojo Men,
The American Breed,
Brick,
Thompson Twins,
Idris Muhammad,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.