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 Palau and from Seoul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Maurizio to the electroclash 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Don Cherry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fatback Band,
Newcleus,
Ornette Coleman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roy Ayers,
Brand Nubian,
Crispian St. Peters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Popol Vuh,
EPMD,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Das Ding,
Eve St. Jones,
Severed Heads,
Cal Tjader,
Ohio Players,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Procol Harum,
Nico,
Pet Shop Boys,
Adolescents,
Von Mondo,
John Foxx,
Maleditus Sound,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dual Sessions,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Skatalites,
Sexual Harrassment,
Unwound,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roger Hodgson,
Massinfluence,
Circle Jerks,
Cameo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Inner City,
Skriet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Talk Talk,
Eric Dolphy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Bananas,
Roxette,
Au Pairs,
Fugazi,
Tommy Roe,
Susan Cadogan,
Albert Ayler,
The Velvet Underground,
ABC,
Alice Coltrane,
Nirvana,
Rufus Thomas,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.