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 Mali and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Quando Quango to the techno 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Moby Grape,
Anakelly,
Au Pairs,
Joey Negro,
Nik Kershaw,
Pantytec,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marcia Griffiths,
Electric Prunes,
Neu!,
Roxy Music,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Godley & Creme,
Whodini,
The Music Machine,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gichy Dan,
Aural Exciters,
Alice Coltrane,
Peter and Kerry,
Second Layer,
The Birthday Party,
Sandy B,
Groovy Waters,
Shoche,
B.T. Express,
Roy Ayers,
Sound Behaviour,
Hashim,
Kenny Larkin,
Amon Düül,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ludus,
Yazoo,
Lower 48,
Depeche Mode,
Rod Modell,
Anthony Braxton,
Quadrant,
the Association,
Sexual Harrassment,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pulsallama,
Nico,
Wire,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bob Dylan,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Smoke,
Tommy Roe,
Mantronix,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Donny Hathaway,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cecil Taylor,
Supertramp,
Ultra Naté,
The Slackers,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.