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 Ethiopia and from Copenhagen.
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 Stockholm and New York.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Monks to the techno 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
The Walker Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
F. McDonald,
Juan Atkins,
Circle Jerks,
Pantytec,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Womack,
Jerry's Kids,
Aural Exciters,
Joyce Sims,
Audionom,
The Stooges,
John Holt,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Make Up,
Average White Band,
The Dead C,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mad Mike,
Susan Cadogan,
Talk Talk,
Second Layer,
The Durutti Column,
Pulsallama,
the Normal,
Joey Negro,
Massinfluence,
Erasure,
Tres Demented,
Graham Central Station,
Sandy B,
Supertramp,
Drexciya,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soul Sonic Force,
Smog,
K-Klass,
Banda Bassotti,
Ralphi Rosario,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Pus,
Toni Rubio,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quando Quango,
La Düsseldorf,
Robert Görl,
Marmalade,
Arab on Radar,
Michelle Simonal,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
LL Cool J,
Joe Smooth,
The Music Machine,
Symarip,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Divine Comedy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Whodini,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.