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 Lesotho and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb 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 The Flesh Eaters to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Raincoats,
Electric Prunes,
Pantaleimon,
Carl Craig,
Sexual Harrassment,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Birthday Party,
The Pretty Things,
The Zeros,
Pere Ubu,
Delta 5,
a-ha,
Royal Trux,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crime,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gichy Dan,
Todd Terry,
Subhumans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Althea and Donna,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jacob Miller,
Henry Cow,
Spoonie Gee,
Dual Sessions,
Model 500,
Tom Boy,
The Knickerbockers,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Japan,
Bang On A Can,
Ultravox,
Minny Pops,
The Move,
Hashim,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Pus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brothers Johnson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gregory Isaacs,
Max Romeo,
This Heat,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fortunes,
Kenny Larkin,
L. Decosne,
The Wake,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pulsallama,
Hardrive,
Ponytail,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Letta Mbulu,
Depeche Mode,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.