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 Sudan and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Donald Fagen 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 Derrick May to the electroclash 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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang on a Can All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Mission of Burma,
Donald Byrd,
Arab on Radar,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Morten Harket,
EPMD,
Brothers Johnson,
The Cowsills,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Human League,
Roy Ayers,
Derrick May,
June of 44,
Gerry Rafferty,
Das Ding,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grauzone,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Josef K,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Inner City,
48th St. Collective,
Chris Corsano,
Cybotron,
Idris Muhammad,
Faraquet,
The Red Krayola,
The Divine Comedy,
David McCallum,
Liliput,
Easy Going,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crispy Ambulance,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ultimate Spinach,
Avey Tare,
The Litter,
Marshall Jefferson,
Accadde A,
The Offenders,
Thee Headcoats,
Skarface,
Pantaleimon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Monolake,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eric Dolphy,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Pus,
B.T. Express,
Von Mondo,
Television,
Man Eating Sloth,
Buzzcocks,
The Count Five,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.