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 Denmark and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Liliput to the techno 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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Kenny Larkin,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Human League,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Standells,
X-101,
Talk Talk,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Coltrane,
the Slits,
Janne Schatter,
In Retrospect,
Rufus Thomas,
Brand Nubian,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Sherman,
The Velvet Underground,
Subhumans,
Todd Terry,
Marine Girls,
The Cure,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Dirtbombs,
48th St. Collective,
Michelle Simonal,
Negative Approach,
Main Source,
Charles Mingus,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Angry Samoans,
The Trojans,
Boz Scaggs,
The Mummies,
Black Pus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fear,
The Durutti Column,
The Barracudas,
Dead Boys,
Black Bananas,
Visage,
Bobby Byrd,
Bad Manners,
Mr. Review,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kurtis Blow,
Arcadia,
Minutemen,
Monks,
Porter Ricks,
Marvin Gaye,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bootsy Collins,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Blackbyrds,
Easy Going,
Roxette,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.