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 Tajikistan and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bang On A Can to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Hasil Adkins,
Pagans,
Urselle,
Kenny Larkin,
Brass Construction,
The Invisible,
T.S.O.L.,
Scrapy,
The Star Department,
Andrew Hill,
John Holt,
Can,
Godley & Creme,
Joensuu 1685,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Funkadelic,
Stereo Dub,
Gang of Four,
Infiniti,
Newcleus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sonny Sharrock,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sällskapet,
Prince Buster,
Oneida,
Masters at Work,
Juan Atkins,
Throbbing Gristle,
Connie Case,
David Bowie,
Radio Birdman,
Pole,
the Fania All-Stars,
The American Breed,
Alice Coltrane,
H. Thieme,
The Cowsills,
Lalann,
Section 25,
Joyce Sims,
The Last Poets,
The Velvet Underground,
Babytalk,
Visage,
Pierre Henry,
The Tremeloes,
Talk Talk,
Liliput,
John Lydon,
Kurtis Blow,
The Grass Roots,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fad Gadget,
Dark Day,
Grauzone,
China Crisis,
Marmalade,
Monolake,
Supertramp,
Pylon,
Michelle Simonal,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.