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 Micronesia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer 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 CMW to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
the Soft Cell,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jacob Miller,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quantec,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ornette Coleman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Livin' Joy,
Mo-Dettes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Derrick May,
Oneida,
June of 44,
Scrapy,
Siglo XX,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lucky Dragons,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Archie Shepp,
Monolake,
This Heat,
Qualms,
the Slits,
The Music Machine,
Public Image Ltd.,
Excepter,
Joy Division,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Buzzcocks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Fire Engines,
Lalann,
The Selecter,
The Offenders,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Remains,
the Bar-Kays,
Shuggie Otis,
Brick,
John Lydon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Outsiders,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Normal,
The Saints,
Chris & Cosey,
Agitation Free,
The J.B.'s,
Isaac Hayes,
Eric Copeland,
The Detroit Cobras,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Hot Snakes,
The Cure,
Swans,
Bauhaus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.