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 Vanuatu and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Saccharine Trust to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Scratch Acid,
FM Einheit,
Index,
Scion,
Skriet,
The Fuzztones,
Man Parrish,
The Flesh Eaters,
Arcadia,
Electric Light Orchestra,
LL Cool J,
Crash Course in Science,
Excepter,
New Order,
Trumans Water,
The Fortunes,
Harry Pussy,
Maleditus Sound,
The Litter,
Metal Thangz,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Steve Hackett,
Amon Düül,
The Monks,
Rakim,
Mad Mike,
Tropical Tobacco,
Babytalk,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Inner City,
Mission of Burma,
Tres Demented,
The Kinks,
Eurythmics,
Qualms,
The Skatalites,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kool Moe Dee,
Royal Trux,
Warsaw,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Quando Quango,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Index,
The Count Five,
The Gladiators,
Vainqueur,
X-Ray Spex,
JFA,
These Immortal Souls,
Average White Band,
Parry Music,
Simply Red,
Jeff Mills,
L. Decosne,
The New Christs,
Sex Pistols,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Echospace,
Kaleidoscope,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.