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 Paraguay and from Philadelphia.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Drexciya to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Interpol,
Harmonia,
K-Klass,
Laurel Aitken,
Chrome,
The Golliwogs,
Tomorrow,
The Moody Blues,
Motorama,
Minnie Riperton,
Rufus Thomas,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eurythmics,
Morten Harket,
Alice Coltrane,
Camouflage,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ten City,
Sight & Sound,
Chris & Cosey,
Average White Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gastr Del Sol,
Groovy Waters,
FM Einheit,
Cymande,
Aaron Thompson,
Soulsonic Force,
The Buckinghams,
Minor Threat,
World's Most,
The Evens,
Lucky Dragons,
Lower 48,
John Foxx,
Kenny Larkin,
the Soft Cell,
Carl Craig,
Lou Reed,
Technova,
Rites of Spring,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bob Dylan,
Tom Boy,
Jawbox,
Heaven 17,
Barry Ungar,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eden Ahbez,
Sparks,
Magma,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bizarre Inc.,
David Axelrod,
Arcadia,
The Kinks,
Organ,
John Holt,
Yellowson,
kango's stein massive,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.