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 Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 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 Sexual Harrassment to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Toni Rubio,
Sam Rivers,
Monolake,
Chrome,
Al Stewart,
Black Pus,
Q and Not U,
Ohio Players,
Absolute Body Control,
ABBA,
Boogie Down Productions,
Yellowson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ossler,
Fad Gadget,
Anthony Braxton,
Morten Harket,
Soul II Soul,
Kayak,
Dawn Penn,
Andrew Hill,
Thee Headcoats,
Curtis Mayfield,
Swans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Suicide,
The Dead C,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ponytail,
Shoche,
The Gladiators,
Brothers Johnson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Connie Case,
Man Eating Sloth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rotary Connection,
The Modern Lovers,
Jandek,
The Invisible,
Letta Mbulu,
Johnny Clarke,
Spandau Ballet,
Pierre Henry,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rod Modell,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Stooges,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stockholm Monsters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Newcleus,
PIL,
Silicon Teens,
The Real Kids,
Alphaville,
Bobby Sherman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Busters,
This Heat,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.