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 Micronesia and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Henry Cow to the crunk 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Jesus and Mary Chain record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Sound Behaviour,
Susan Cadogan,
Heaven 17,
The Skatalites,
X-Ray Spex,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
CMW,
Quadrant,
Country Teasers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Althea and Donna,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Yellowson,
Ice-T,
The Monochrome Set,
Rosa Yemen,
Q and Not U,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gang Starr,
The Modern Lovers,
Colin Newman,
Saccharine Trust,
Von Mondo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kenny Larkin,
John Foxx,
X-101,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crash Course in Science,
Q65,
Nico,
Public Image Ltd.,
Barrington Levy,
In Retrospect,
The Motions,
Index,
Mo-Dettes,
Cheater Slicks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Gladiators,
Ornette Coleman,
Lucky Dragons,
Wings,
These Immortal Souls,
Youth Brigade,
Harry Pussy,
Blancmange,
EPMD,
Slick Rick,
Anthony Braxton,
Jeff Mills,
Carl Craig,
Junior Murvin,
Moby Grape,
Livin' Joy,
Sun Ra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Saints,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.