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 Grenada and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 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 Sonic Youth to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
La Düsseldorf,
Section 25,
the Soft Cell,
Motorama,
John Foxx,
Khruangbin,
The Gun Club,
Pussy Galore,
48th St. Collective,
Hasil Adkins,
Sun Ra,
The Black Dice,
Lalo Schifrin,
Make Up,
Gang of Four,
Easy Going,
Soul Sonic Force,
John Lydon,
Model 500,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fela Kuti,
The Sonics,
Frankie Knuckles,
Colin Newman,
Piero Umiliani,
Roger Hodgson,
Scrapy,
Eric Dolphy,
Ten City,
X-101,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Los Fastidios,
Sly & The Family Stone,
PIL,
Sexual Harrassment,
Accadde A,
New Order,
KRS-One,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bluetip,
The Birthday Party,
Howard Jones,
Arab on Radar,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Steve Hackett,
Scratch Acid,
U.S. Maple,
Oblivians,
Amon Düül,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dave Gahan,
Sister Nancy,
David Bowie,
Amazonics,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Evens,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Letta Mbulu,
Franke,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.