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 Botswana and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Stiv Bators to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
H. Thieme,
the Soft Cell,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Wolf Eyes,
Procol Harum,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Stockholm Monsters,
Connie Case,
Bobby Byrd,
Blancmange,
Malaria!,
Gang Starr,
Scratch Acid,
Black Flag,
Leonard Cohen,
Brand Nubian,
Gang Green,
Fatback Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Amon Düül II,
Alphaville,
Anthony Braxton,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Offenders,
The Real Kids,
Erasure,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ludus,
Gil Scott Heron,
Max Romeo,
Bluetip,
Danielle Patucci,
Unwound,
Faraquet,
Nico,
Excepter,
Shuggie Otis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pole,
The Doors,
Banda Bassotti,
Loose Ends,
Pere Ubu,
Hot Snakes,
The Martian,
The Alarm Clocks,
Maurizio,
Shoche,
Scott Walker,
One Last Wish,
The Music Machine,
Subhumans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Talk Talk,
Bang On A Can,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nils Olav,
Aloha Tigers,
Absolute Body Control,
Animal Collective,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.