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 Vietnam and from Halifax.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Walker Brothers to the grime 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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Sun Ra,
Gang of Four,
Oneida,
Godley & Creme,
Pantaleimon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Suburban Knight,
Clear Light,
Severed Heads,
Popol Vuh,
Blake Baxter,
Kurtis Blow,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nico,
Pulsallama,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Judy Mowatt,
Lalann,
Minutemen,
Traffic Nightmare,
Peter and Kerry,
Excepter,
Chrome,
Swans,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultravox,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aloha Tigers,
Boredoms,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wire,
Bootsy Collins,
Bill Wells,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mo-Dettes,
The Star Department,
The Victims,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fall,
Erasure,
The Buckinghams,
Jeru the Damaja,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The J.B.'s,
Leonard Cohen,
Crooked Eye,
Brothers Johnson,
Cheater Slicks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Last Poets,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Neil Young,
Infiniti,
Tom Boy,
Iggy Pop,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Gap Band,
EPMD,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.