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 Benin and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord 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 The Dirtbombs to the dance 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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
The Knickerbockers,
Sarah Menescal,
The Pop Group,
Fela Kuti,
Ossler,
Arcadia,
Q and Not U,
The Associates,
Lee Hazlewood,
Delta 5,
Bill Near,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Cowsills,
the Germs,
the Sonics,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Dead C,
Mr. Review,
Faraquet,
Television Personalities,
Monks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Japan,
Absolute Body Control,
Scott Walker,
The Real Kids,
Qualms,
Adolescents,
Bizarre Inc.,
Con Funk Shun,
Harry Pussy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
D'Angelo,
Von Mondo,
Bobby Byrd,
Minny Pops,
Scan 7,
Monolake,
The Fire Engines,
Derrick May,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Fugs,
T.S.O.L.,
Sister Nancy,
Nick Fraelich,
Moss Icon,
The Busters,
Glenn Branca,
Sugar Minott,
The Fall,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Avey Tare,
Piero Umiliani,
Model 500,
Toni Rubio,
Jacques Brel,
Magma,
The Selecter,
Thompson Twins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.