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 Nauru and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba 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 Barry Ungar to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Y Pants,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The J.B.'s,
The Misunderstood,
MDC,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mandrill,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Smog,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Monolake,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Doors,
Nico,
Warsaw,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eric Dolphy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Womack,
Index,
Lou Reed,
Grauzone,
Magma,
The Fire Engines,
Swans,
Pantytec,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Todd Terry,
Aaron Thompson,
Donald Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
Average White Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Idris Muhammad,
Royal Trux,
Morten Harket,
Reagan Youth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Alton Ellis,
The Buckinghams,
Sparks,
Intrusion,
Mantronix,
The Gun Club,
These Immortal Souls,
Suburban Knight,
Quando Quango,
Agitation Free,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Goldenarms,
Country Teasers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Sonics,
Silicon Teens,
Donny Hathaway,
ABBA,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sex Pistols,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Mojo Men,
Monks,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.