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 Sri Lanka and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Accadde A to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Symarip,
The Names,
The Beau Brummels,
The Index,
Scan 7,
Bang On A Can,
Curtis Mayfield,
Motorama,
John Foxx,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Adolescents,
Trumans Water,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barry Ungar,
Tears for Fears,
Ralphi Rosario,
John Coltrane,
Kaleidoscope,
The Seeds,
Danielle Patucci,
Idris Muhammad,
Faraquet,
Schoolly D,
The Fall,
Bauhaus,
Cheater Slicks,
Ultravox,
Loose Ends,
Siglo XX,
Lightning Bolt,
Simply Red,
48th St. Collective,
Janne Schatter,
Alison Limerick,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
MDC,
DNA,
Kerri Chandler,
Kevin Saunderson,
Skaos,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tommy Roe,
Cameo,
The Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joy Division,
Excepter,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Monks,
David Axelrod,
Silicon Teens,
Minny Pops,
The Invisible,
Morten Harket,
Tubeway Army,
Pylon,
Letta Mbulu,
The Angels of Light,
The Young Rascals,
Peter and Kerry,
Mr. Review,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.