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 Kazakhstan and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cheater Slicks to the rock 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
The Wake,
Blossom Toes,
The Shadows of Knight,
The J.B.'s,
Kayak,
Terry Callier,
Deakin,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Vogues,
Khruangbin,
Harry Pussy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lakeside,
Anthony Braxton,
Sister Nancy,
Nick Fraelich,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Von Mondo,
Mars,
Index,
Scientists,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Das Ding,
Arthur Verocai,
Tubeway Army,
Rotary Connection,
Camouflage,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Quando Quango,
Dead Boys,
The Blues Magoos,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ultra Naté,
The Associates,
Albert Ayler,
Nils Olav,
Joensuu 1685,
Sparks,
Tim Buckley,
Joyce Sims,
Pulsallama,
One Last Wish,
Jesper Dahlback,
Faust,
The Mojo Men,
The New Christs,
The Red Krayola,
Agent Orange,
Minor Threat,
Tres Demented,
The United States of America,
The Offenders,
Eurythmics,
Roger Hodgson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wire,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gil Scott Heron,
MDC,
Reagan Youth,
Davy DMX,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band.
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.