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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Toronto.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Chris & Cosey to the rap 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
The Count Five,
DJ Sneak,
Sällskapet,
Warsaw,
Circle Jerks,
La Düsseldorf,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Parry Music,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Busters,
Cybotron,
Bootsy Collins,
Suicide,
Alton Ellis,
Sarah Menescal,
Bluetip,
The Searchers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Toasters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hasil Adkins,
Barbara Tucker,
Sugar Minott,
Drive Like Jehu,
Y Pants,
Index,
Livin' Joy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Curtis Mayfield,
Vladislav Delay,
Barclay James Harvest,
K-Klass,
Lou Christie,
Stereo Dub,
Jeff Lynne,
The Leaves,
The Dirtbombs,
Alphaville,
The Saints,
John Coltrane,
The Birthday Party,
U.S. Maple,
Porter Ricks,
The Mummies,
The Victims,
Prince Buster,
Make Up,
the Slits,
Crash Course in Science,
Traffic Nightmare,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mantronix,
Brothers Johnson,
Laurel Aitken,
Rotary Connection,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.