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 St Lucia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Michael McDonald 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 Thompson Twins to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
EPMD,
Dawn Penn,
Gang Green,
Flipper,
Brothers Johnson,
Roy Ayers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lou Reed,
The American Breed,
Barry Ungar,
The Litter,
Archie Shepp,
Procol Harum,
Nik Kershaw,
Basic Channel,
Sonny Sharrock,
June of 44,
Young Marble Giants,
Mary Jane Girls,
The New Christs,
Newcleus,
Y Pants,
Slave,
Massinfluence,
Joe Smooth,
Rod Modell,
the Human League,
Popol Vuh,
Ultravox,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yusef Lateef,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Black Dice,
Yazoo,
Michelle Simonal,
Soft Machine,
Black Moon,
Glenn Branca,
Amazonics,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fugazi,
Aural Exciters,
Minnie Riperton,
Warren Ellis,
The Human League,
Unrelated Segments,
Laurel Aitken,
Al Stewart,
The Motions,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Heaven 17,
Ken Boothe,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Agent Orange,
Lee Hazlewood,
UT,
Mandrill,
Pharoah Sanders,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Stooges,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.