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 Qatar and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
DJ Style,
Gong,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Janne Schatter,
Letta Mbulu,
Mr. Review,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Monolake,
The Kinks,
Susan Cadogan,
Fear,
Steve Hackett,
Kaleidoscope,
the Sonics,
Jerry's Kids,
L. Decosne,
Slave,
PIL,
The American Breed,
Main Source,
Dead Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Stiv Bators,
Gang Gang Dance,
FM Einheit,
Johnny Clarke,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Intrusion,
Sound Behaviour,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sam Rivers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Japan,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobby Byrd,
Sugar Minott,
Idris Muhammad,
Pylon,
Colin Newman,
Donald Byrd,
The Names,
New York Dolls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Country Teasers,
ABBA,
Barry Ungar,
Zero Boys,
Wolf Eyes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fire Engines,
John Lydon,
Eddi Front,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Walker Brothers,
The Fugs,
The Offenders,
Pere Ubu,
Franke,
Blossom Toes,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.