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 Marshall Islands and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum 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 The Five Americans to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
The Neon Judgement,
Scrapy,
The Real Kids,
Royal Trux,
Suicide,
Chrome,
Sight & Sound,
The Monks,
Piero Umiliani,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pole,
K-Klass,
Soulsonic Force,
Roger Hodgson,
Shuggie Otis,
The Cowsills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eden Ahbez,
Hasil Adkins,
Bronski Beat,
F. McDonald,
The Victims,
Peter & Gordon,
The Associates,
Spandau Ballet,
Skaos,
Smog,
Tears for Fears,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobby Sherman,
The Remains,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Idris Muhammad,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Womack,
Babytalk,
June Days,
the Normal,
Warren Ellis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marshall Jefferson,
Basic Channel,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Count Five,
kango's stein massive,
DJ Sneak,
Black Moon,
Bill Near,
Los Fastidios,
Susan Cadogan,
Jandek,
The Music Machine,
Tim Buckley,
Moss Icon,
Camouflage,
Toni Rubio,
Tomorrow,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.