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 Ukraine and from London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kevin Saunderson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Niagra,
Anthony Braxton,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Stooges,
The Pop Group,
Zapp,
Tres Demented,
Cybotron,
PIL,
Rites of Spring,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scrapy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Doors,
Dual Sessions,
Susan Cadogan,
The Associates,
Whodini,
Radiohead,
Minnie Riperton,
The Barracudas,
Glenn Branca,
The American Breed,
Surgeon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Soulsonic Force,
Sam Rivers,
Gong,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roxette,
The Smiths,
Royal Trux,
Spoonie Gee,
Cymande,
Sarah Menescal,
The Invisible,
The Misunderstood,
Isaac Hayes,
Marc Almond,
The Mummies,
Laurel Aitken,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Blake Baxter,
Deakin,
Audionom,
Pole,
MDC,
Todd Rundgren,
Eric Copeland,
Organ,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
a-ha,
Eden Ahbez,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Robert Hood,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Motions,
The Fuzztones,
Mad Mike,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.