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 Uzbekistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ken Boothe to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lakeside,
Khruangbin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Byron Stingily,
The Fortunes,
Yaz,
Tommy Roe,
Altered Images,
Marc Almond,
Barry Ungar,
The Barracudas,
Rakim,
Infiniti,
Danielle Patucci,
Q and Not U,
The Cure,
David Bowie,
Basic Channel,
Josef K,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fatback Band,
Don Cherry,
Mars,
Neu!,
Lightning Bolt,
Bad Manners,
Lindisfarne,
Severed Heads,
Fat Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric B and Rakim,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Duran Duran,
Dawn Penn,
Cameo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gang Starr,
Idris Muhammad,
Fad Gadget,
Hardrive,
Youth Brigade,
Accadde A,
Suburban Knight,
L. Decosne,
Robert Görl,
John Foxx,
Bobby Byrd,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Laurel Aitken,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Angry Samoans,
Shuggie Otis,
Public Image Ltd.,
Radiohead,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dead C,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.