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 Costa Rica and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Arcadia to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin 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?
The Beau Brummels,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bang On A Can,
Crispy Ambulance,
Suburban Knight,
E-Dancer,
Jeff Lynne,
Ituana,
Cybotron,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lucky Dragons,
Amon Düül II,
The Buckinghams,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Moody Blues,
Saccharine Trust,
cv313,
Oneida,
Angry Samoans,
Stetsasonic,
Circle Jerks,
Y Pants,
Banda Bassotti,
The Victims,
Warsaw,
Pulsallama,
the Slits,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang of Four,
The Cowsills,
The Searchers,
The Fuzztones,
Eli Mardock,
Cecil Taylor,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sun Ra,
Barry Ungar,
John Foxx,
Desert Stars,
Hot Snakes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Monks,
Rosa Yemen,
Can,
Joensuu 1685,
Sugar Minott,
Rotary Connection,
Minnie Riperton,
Moby Grape,
The Leaves,
Prince Buster,
Alice Coltrane,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fluxion,
Blossom Toes,
The Trojans,
Black Sheep,
Scan 7,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.