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 Greece and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lille.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Neon Judgement to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
The Flesh Eaters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lungfish,
the Soft Cell,
Deakin,
Scratch Acid,
Underground Resistance,
The Modern Lovers,
Boredoms,
Bizarre Inc.,
Alison Limerick,
Can,
Easy Going,
Agitation Free,
Alton Ellis,
Popol Vuh,
Von Mondo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ten City,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
R.M.O.,
Warsaw,
Isaac Hayes,
Joensuu 1685,
The Kinks,
The Tremeloes,
Massinfluence,
The Fall,
Malaria!,
The Walker Brothers,
Tres Demented,
the Slits,
Erykah Badu,
The Grass Roots,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wasted Youth,
Royal Trux,
Curtis Mayfield,
Second Layer,
Rufus Thomas,
Yellowson,
Severed Heads,
T.S.O.L.,
Rites of Spring,
The Buckinghams,
Hardrive,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
H. Thieme,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mission of Burma,
Bobby Sherman,
DJ Sneak,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minutemen,
Lalo Schifrin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.