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 Iceland and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 guitar 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 The Saints to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Toni Rubio,
Cymande,
48th St. Collective,
Glambeats Corp.,
DNA,
Bizarre Inc.,
Faraquet,
Maleditus Sound,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Unrelated Segments,
Derrick May,
Eve St. Jones,
Youth Brigade,
Icehouse,
Interpol,
Eden Ahbez,
Mantronix,
The Fire Engines,
K-Klass,
Motorama,
T.S.O.L.,
Model 500,
Monolake,
Scientists,
Junior Murvin,
Fatback Band,
Qualms,
Connie Case,
Kaleidoscope,
The J.B.'s,
The Move,
Minny Pops,
The Durutti Column,
Slick Rick,
Marc Almond,
Half Japanese,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pierre Henry,
Bush Tetras,
Angry Samoans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Intrusion,
The Barracudas,
Bobby Sherman,
Underground Resistance,
Wings,
Television,
Ultravox,
Panda Bear,
Ornette Coleman,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Deakin,
Chris & Cosey,
Absolute Body Control,
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.