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 Zambia and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the funk 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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Skriet,
Boredoms,
Deepchord,
Donald Byrd,
Matthew Halsall,
T. Rex,
Bluetip,
T.S.O.L.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Funkadelic,
Accadde A,
Sister Nancy,
Skaos,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Porter Ricks,
Hardrive,
Colin Newman,
JFA,
The Walker Brothers,
Don Cherry,
Masters at Work,
Jeff Mills,
Bauhaus,
Maurizio,
Cluster,
Youth Brigade,
Tim Buckley,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Darondo,
Ohio Players,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mars,
MC5,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cecil Taylor,
MDC,
Quantec,
Aural Exciters,
Japan,
Graham Central Station,
Moss Icon,
Kerri Chandler,
The Residents,
Brick,
Buzzcocks,
The Velvet Underground,
Sällskapet,
Mark Hollis,
the Germs,
The Saints,
The Moleskins,
Zero Boys,
The Standells,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
Dawn Penn,
Sonny Sharrock,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ronan,
The Move,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.