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 Botswana and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Susan Cadogan to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Kayak,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bad Manners,
Barclay James Harvest,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young,
Laurel Aitken,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
H. Thieme,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
K-Klass,
Marine Girls,
Mad Mike,
The J.B.'s,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Avey Tare,
Bang On A Can,
Crispy Ambulance,
Amon Düül II,
Sällskapet,
John Coltrane,
LL Cool J,
Urselle,
Second Layer,
Los Fastidios,
Leonard Cohen,
Wally Richardson,
EPMD,
Sugar Minott,
The Modern Lovers,
Deepchord,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dark Day,
Cecil Taylor,
Bauhaus,
Jeff Mills,
Nas,
Aswad,
The Birthday Party,
Blake Baxter,
Tears for Fears,
Khruangbin,
Donny Hathaway,
Quando Quango,
Jimmy McGriff,
Negative Approach,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fela Kuti,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Holt,
Marmalade,
The Tremeloes,
Michelle Simonal,
The Mummies,
Agent Orange,
Animal Collective,
Easy Going,
Arab on Radar,
Ultravox,
Aaron Thompson,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.