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 Kenya and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Supertramp to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Interpol,
Deepchord,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bush Tetras,
Spandau Ballet,
Lakeside,
Josef K,
Wally Richardson,
Zero Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fad Gadget,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Con Funk Shun,
The Names,
Kas Product,
Bauhaus,
Scratch Acid,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Moss Icon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sound Behaviour,
Drexciya,
Tubeway Army,
Circle Jerks,
Average White Band,
Y Pants,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Pus,
H. Thieme,
Max Romeo,
Bang On A Can,
Man Eating Sloth,
Accadde A,
Tres Demented,
Rekid,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Zeros,
Easy Going,
Flash Fearless,
Eve St. Jones,
Quando Quango,
Fluxion,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
New Order,
Eden Ahbez,
the Germs,
Joe Smooth,
Pierre Henry,
Dave Gahan,
DJ Style,
Eric Dolphy,
The Electric Prunes,
Isaac Hayes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Dead C,
Morten Harket,
Vladislav Delay,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.