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 Lille.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 the Soft Cell to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Donald Byrd,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Amazonics,
Stetsasonic,
Chris & Cosey,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Real Kids,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Second Layer,
Zero Boys,
LL Cool J,
Swans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sandy B,
Don Cherry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eddi Front,
Dorothy Ashby,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Visage,
Pussy Galore,
Nils Olav,
Audionom,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Arthur Verocai,
Wolf Eyes,
Josef K,
Derrick Morgan,
Gang Starr,
Roxette,
Index,
Maleditus Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Trumans Water,
Fela Kuti,
B.T. Express,
Barry Ungar,
Pantaleimon,
Rod Modell,
Sonny Sharrock,
X-Ray Spex,
Interpol,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rakim,
Grauzone,
Rosa Yemen,
The Buckinghams,
Blancmange,
Marvin Gaye,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Spandau Ballet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Johnny Clarke,
Essential Logic,
The Divine Comedy,
Absolute Body Control,
the Normal,
Kenny Larkin,
Moby Grape,
Lakeside,
Pagans,
The Pretty Things,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.