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 Vanuatu and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Tears for Fears to the rap 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
Soft Cell,
Swell Maps,
The Zeros,
Cal Tjader,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soft Machine,
Joyce Sims,
Fear,
Japan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Erasure,
Bootsy Collins,
The Neon Judgement,
The Count Five,
Neu!,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minor Threat,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
MC5,
Barrington Levy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Popol Vuh,
Donny Hathaway,
Nation of Ulysses,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crash Course in Science,
Hardrive,
Sandy B,
Gastr Del Sol,
Juan Atkins,
Marc Almond,
L. Decosne,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marshall Jefferson,
Man Parrish,
Moss Icon,
Sun Ra,
Sister Nancy,
Delta 5,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
10cc,
Infiniti,
Wolf Eyes,
Joy Division,
Fela Kuti,
Amazonics,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Technova,
Bronski Beat,
Ornette Coleman,
Radiohead,
Andrew Hill,
June of 44,
Khruangbin,
Liliput,
Jeff Lynne,
Accadde A,
Hashim,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.