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 Papua New Guinea and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Guru Guru to the techno 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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neu!,
Minutemen,
Derrick Morgan,
Avey Tare,
John Holt,
the Human League,
Mo-Dettes,
The Martian,
Tears for Fears,
Steve Hackett,
Deadbeat,
Matthew Bourne,
Brass Construction,
Minny Pops,
K-Klass,
Mission of Burma,
Ponytail,
FM Einheit,
Pagans,
Matthew Halsall,
Stiv Bators,
the Swans,
Depeche Mode,
Gang Green,
Das Ding,
The Five Americans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
The Stooges,
Con Funk Shun,
Public Enemy,
Joyce Sims,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Alice Coltrane,
Surgeon,
The Divine Comedy,
Brand Nubian,
Y Pants,
Subhumans,
Electric Prunes,
A Certain Ratio,
The Kinks,
The Beau Brummels,
The Toasters,
Loose Ends,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fall,
Yazoo,
The Grass Roots,
Jeff Lynne,
Talk Talk,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Velvet Underground,
The Evens,
Radio Birdman,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lalann,
D'Angelo,
Radiohead,
Blake Baxter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jeff Mills,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.