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 Slovakia and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 David Bowie 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 Gabor Szabo to the rock 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Magma,
Boredoms,
Soft Cell,
Harry Pussy,
The United States of America,
Banda Bassotti,
Urselle,
The Vogues,
Sun City Girls,
Joy Division,
Fatback Band,
Television Personalities,
Y Pants,
Desert Stars,
The Slits,
Rapeman,
Oneida,
Schoolly D,
Animal Collective,
Lightning Bolt,
Ludus,
Roxy Music,
Smog,
Kayak,
Bronski Beat,
Frankie Knuckles,
Steve Hackett,
The Move,
Tres Demented,
The Kinks,
Angry Samoans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Modern Lovers,
Dark Day,
Subhumans,
Rod Modell,
Scratch Acid,
Liliput,
Black Flag,
Skaos,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ohio Players,
New Age Steppers,
Man Parrish,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sarah Menescal,
Ronnie Foster,
Sex Pistols,
Zapp,
Mark Hollis,
World's Most,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Black Dice,
Freddie Wadling,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ituana,
Robert Görl,
Minny Pops,
Sandy B,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.