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 Malawi and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro 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 Alarm Clocks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Camouflage,
Gastr Del Sol,
Terry Callier,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brothers Johnson,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gories,
Los Fastidios,
Aural Exciters,
World's Most,
Underground Resistance,
The Martian,
Juan Atkins,
Panda Bear,
The Angels of Light,
Chris Corsano,
Minnie Riperton,
Circle Jerks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yusef Lateef,
Jawbox,
T. Rex,
U.S. Maple,
Fatback Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barrington Levy,
La Düsseldorf,
Tropical Tobacco,
Albert Ayler,
Supertramp,
John Holt,
Derrick May,
Joyce Sims,
Roger Hodgson,
Eden Ahbez,
Gregory Isaacs,
Basic Channel,
Mission of Burma,
Anakelly,
Gang Green,
Freddie Wadling,
Josef K,
Eric Dolphy,
Ralphi Rosario,
One Last Wish,
Skarface,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Divine Comedy,
Suicide,
Thee Headcoats,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
The Zeros,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
L. Decosne,
OOIOO,
The Remains,
Crispy Ambulance,
Magma,
Suburban Knight,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.