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 Brunei and from Salvador.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord 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 Gang of Four to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Sonics,
Newcleus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gang Gang Dance,
Harmonia,
Das Ding,
Sun Ra,
FM Einheit,
Country Teasers,
The Velvet Underground,
Eric Dolphy,
Man Parrish,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Warren Ellis,
Monks,
MC5,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Seeds,
Zero Boys,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Motions,
Television,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kas Product,
Altered Images,
Ultravox,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Bananas,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Monochrome Set,
Organ,
Flash Fearless,
Iggy Pop,
Main Source,
the Bar-Kays,
Rosa Yemen,
The Mojo Men,
Bootsy Collins,
Albert Ayler,
Glenn Branca,
Deadbeat,
Sight & Sound,
Severed Heads,
Neu!,
The Evens,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Gories,
Buzzcocks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Laurel Aitken,
Blancmange,
L. Decosne,
The Fire Engines,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.