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 Czech Republic and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro 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 Tom Boy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Goldenarms,
Easy Going,
Marc Almond,
Deadbeat,
Lungfish,
UT,
Rufus Thomas,
Albert Ayler,
Carl Craig,
Drive Like Jehu,
Zapp,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rites of Spring,
Scientists,
Crime,
KRS-One,
Amazonics,
Roxette,
Davy DMX,
Mantronix,
Bluetip,
Barbara Tucker,
Bad Manners,
Qualms,
Robert Wyatt,
The Moody Blues,
Bobby Byrd,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Kerri Chandler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Supertramp,
E-Dancer,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wolf Eyes,
The Kinks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rekid,
Anthony Braxton,
Blake Baxter,
Jeru the Damaja,
MDC,
This Heat,
Sugar Minott,
Joe Finger,
The Grass Roots,
Matthew Bourne,
Matthew Halsall,
Tubeway Army,
Anakelly,
Pussy Galore,
Stockholm Monsters,
Symarip,
The Busters,
Thompson Twins,
ABBA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alice Coltrane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.