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 Malaysia and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 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 a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Techniques,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Last Poets,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Germs,
Max Romeo,
The Monks,
Niagra,
Junior Murvin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lightning Bolt,
Stockholm Monsters,
Roxette,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Carl Craig,
Agitation Free,
Yazoo,
Henry Cow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
JFA,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Amon Düül,
Eddi Front,
Godley & Creme,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
La Düsseldorf,
Minny Pops,
World's Most,
The Mojo Men,
The American Breed,
Thompson Twins,
Sight & Sound,
the Normal,
Mad Mike,
Alice Coltrane,
Gastr Del Sol,
Swell Maps,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Simply Red,
Patti Smith,
Maurizio,
John Coltrane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
James White and The Blacks,
Symarip,
Porter Ricks,
Black Sheep,
Absolute Body Control,
X-102,
Bill Near,
Make Up,
The Slackers,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Dave Gahan,
DJ Style,
Joe Smooth,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.