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 Latvia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 arpeggiator 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 Ralphi Rosario to the dance 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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Youth Brigade,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Evens,
The Sound,
cv313,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Residents,
Yellowson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Crash Course in Science,
Fela Kuti,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Idris Muhammad,
Qualms,
Hashim,
Section 25,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Morten Harket,
JFA,
The Wake,
The Dead C,
Y Pants,
Sarah Menescal,
Liliput,
One Last Wish,
Slave,
Infiniti,
The Buckinghams,
Pierre Henry,
The Doobie Brothers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cabaret Voltaire,
June Days,
Terry Callier,
Banda Bassotti,
Tomorrow,
Q65,
The Barracudas,
Urselle,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Blossom Toes,
Rekid,
Cheater Slicks,
Faust,
Goldenarms,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gregory Isaacs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Colin Newman,
Eden Ahbez,
Anthony Braxton,
K-Klass,
La Düsseldorf,
Lindisfarne,
Sandy B,
Skarface,
Warsaw,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.