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 Burkina and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Ken Boothe to the punk 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Buzzcocks,
Von Mondo,
Soul Sonic Force,
R.M.O.,
Carl Craig,
The Fuzztones,
Eli Mardock,
Swans,
Desert Stars,
Khruangbin,
Television Personalities,
The Last Poets,
Jandek,
Goldenarms,
Sex Pistols,
Chris & Cosey,
Ken Boothe,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Soft Cell,
Ten City,
Newcleus,
Letta Mbulu,
Wings,
Idris Muhammad,
Siglo XX,
Franke,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Victims,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Invisible,
the Sonics,
the Human League,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Circle Jerks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Terry Callier,
Banda Bassotti,
Kool Moe Dee,
Qualms,
David Axelrod,
Camouflage,
The Moody Blues,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gang Starr,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Trumans Water,
The Kinks,
Public Enemy,
The Martian,
The Monochrome Set,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
John Coltrane,
Sugar Minott,
Gang of Four,
The Stooges,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Unrelated Segments,
Stetsasonic,
Pere Ubu,
Brand Nubian,
Lou Reed,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.