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 Israel and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Human League to the grunge 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tommy Roe,
Massinfluence,
The Standells,
Newcleus,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Amazonics,
The Last Poets,
Cluster,
LL Cool J,
Q and Not U,
Tim Buckley,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Moon,
Carl Craig,
Rites of Spring,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Avey Tare,
June of 44,
Kurtis Blow,
Hasil Adkins,
Procol Harum,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nirvana,
Bootsy Collins,
Slick Rick,
The Slackers,
Dawn Penn,
The Offenders,
X-Ray Spex,
Radio Birdman,
Grandmaster Flash,
Spoonie Gee,
Babytalk,
Joy Division,
Grey Daturas,
The Birthday Party,
La Düsseldorf,
Suicide,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scan 7,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Flag,
Donald Byrd,
D'Angelo,
Ken Boothe,
Supertramp,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cybotron,
Graham Central Station,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soft Cell,
The J.B.'s,
The Skatalites,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gichy Dan,
Franke,
The Doors,
The Cowsills,
Khruangbin,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.