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 Azerbaijan and from London.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Joy Division to the crunk 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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?
Howard Jones,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Adolescents,
Pet Shop Boys,
Patti Smith,
Mo-Dettes,
The United States of America,
The Gladiators,
X-101,
Qualms,
Make Up,
CMW,
Oblivians,
David McCallum,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sam Rivers,
The Trojans,
Rites of Spring,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sixth Finger,
Skriet,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Human League,
Half Japanese,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marine Girls,
Easy Going,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grey Daturas,
Pantytec,
Aural Exciters,
The Misunderstood,
The Seeds,
Sexual Harrassment,
Y Pants,
The Velvet Underground,
Moss Icon,
The Residents,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Electric Prunes,
Mission of Burma,
Depeche Mode,
Sonic Youth,
Barbara Tucker,
Eric B and Rakim,
Average White Band,
Brothers Johnson,
The Sonics,
Rekid,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Monochrome Set,
Barry Ungar,
Pole,
New Order,
Roxette,
Maleditus Sound,
The Raincoats,
Soft Cell,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Michelle Simonal,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Isaac Hayes,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.