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 Madagascar and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Columbus.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Frankie Knuckles to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
John Foxx,
Vladislav Delay,
Gastr Del Sol,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Camouflage,
Dark Day,
Kayak,
T.S.O.L.,
Maurizio,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Womack,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Michelle Simonal,
U.S. Maple,
The Dirtbombs,
Con Funk Shun,
Nico,
Surgeon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Heaven 17,
Soft Cell,
Pussy Galore,
The American Breed,
Davy DMX,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Seeds,
Dead Boys,
Scientists,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Sherman,
Andrew Hill,
Soulsonic Force,
Sonic Youth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Trojans,
Symarip,
Magma,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Delon & Dalcan,
Amazonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
Shuggie Otis,
the Human League,
Sugar Minott,
Pylon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lee Hazlewood,
Aural Exciters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
X-101,
Mr. Review,
Hardrive,
Nick Fraelich,
Beasts of Bourbon,
B.T. Express,
Rod Modell,
Anakelly,
The Stooges,
The Selecter,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.