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 Indonesia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 the Fania All-Stars to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Kool Moe Dee,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Main Source,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Radio Birdman,
Nik Kershaw,
The Cramps,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gang of Four,
New York Dolls,
Banda Bassotti,
Amazonics,
Idris Muhammad,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Dead C,
Stetsasonic,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arab on Radar,
Pulsallama,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Alphaville,
Q and Not U,
Fluxion,
EPMD,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Techniques,
Minny Pops,
Jerry's Kids,
Grandmaster Flash,
Schoolly D,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sarah Menescal,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bluetip,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dave Gahan,
The Mummies,
Guru Guru,
James White and The Blacks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Audionom,
Pylon,
Junior Murvin,
The Mojo Men,
Roy Ayers,
Quadrant,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Amon Düül II,
Tim Buckley,
The Fall,
8 Eyed Spy,
Boredoms,
Maurizio,
Godley & Creme,
Monolake,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Skatalites,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.