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 Brazil and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Essential Logic to the funk 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Sheep,
Rakim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Yellowson,
the Germs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cheater Slicks,
Dual Sessions,
Livin' Joy,
Japan,
The Beau Brummels,
Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Cell,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Slick Rick,
Janne Schatter,
Organ,
Joe Finger,
Funkadelic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Lydon,
The Five Americans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The United States of America,
The Gories,
Bang On A Can,
Reagan Youth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
F. McDonald,
Andrew Hill,
The Cure,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Sonics,
The Searchers,
Inner City,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Bananas,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Y Pants,
DJ Style,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Byrd,
Sound Behaviour,
Joy Division,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Misunderstood,
Throbbing Gristle,
JFA,
Robert Görl,
Essential Logic,
Maurizio,
The Invisible,
Sly & The Family Stone,
OOIOO,
Agent Orange,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.