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 Portugal and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 June of 44 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Inner City,
Alice Coltrane,
Donald Byrd,
Tommy Roe,
Alphaville,
Khruangbin,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ludus,
Harmonia,
Wolf Eyes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Moon,
Qualms,
June Days,
Maleditus Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Robert Hood,
Pulsallama,
Sarah Menescal,
Aaron Thompson,
the Slits,
Desert Stars,
Anthony Braxton,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Excepter,
E-Dancer,
Sonic Youth,
The Busters,
the Association,
Max Romeo,
Joy Division,
Chris Corsano,
The Monks,
Talk Talk,
Kerrie Biddell,
Quadrant,
Monks,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hashim,
The Mummies,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gastr Del Sol,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Martian,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-102,
Zapp,
La Düsseldorf,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lower 48,
Adolescents,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Moleskins,
Pussy Galore,
Anakelly,
Flipper,
Lakeside,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Parry Music,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.