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 Ukraine and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Donald Fagen 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
The Mummies,
Jeff Mills,
Quadrant,
The Walker Brothers,
Ronnie Foster,
Glenn Branca,
The Shadows of Knight,
Erykah Badu,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tropical Tobacco,
Smog,
Alice Coltrane,
Alison Limerick,
The Real Kids,
MC5,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Stetsasonic,
Nirvana,
Bill Wells,
Gabor Szabo,
Popol Vuh,
Anthony Braxton,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Steve Hackett,
Harpers Bizarre,
Au Pairs,
Easy Going,
The Pretty Things,
Funkadelic,
Suburban Knight,
Procol Harum,
John Foxx,
The Beau Brummels,
Camberwell Now,
The Pop Group,
Whodini,
Trumans Water,
The Selecter,
Funky Four + One,
Neu!,
Metal Thangz,
Cheater Slicks,
Crash Course in Science,
The Neon Judgement,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joey Negro,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Qualms,
Man Eating Sloth,
Absolute Body Control,
The United States of America,
Jacob Miller,
Nas,
The Electric Prunes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sarah Menescal,
Morten Harket,
Ossler,
The Stooges,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.