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 Sao Paulo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Model 500 to the crunk 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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Roxette 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Dave Gahan,
Faraquet,
Bobby Womack,
The Monks,
Warsaw,
The Slackers,
Quando Quango,
Slave,
FM Einheit,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Normal,
Barbara Tucker,
The Beau Brummels,
Loose Ends,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Golliwogs,
The Kinks,
Althea and Donna,
Spoonie Gee,
Ice-T,
Harmonia,
The Evens,
D'Angelo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Barracudas,
Reagan Youth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tears for Fears,
The Blues Magoos,
the Slits,
Motorama,
Soulsonic Force,
Trumans Water,
Simply Red,
Royal Trux,
Peter and Kerry,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Man Parrish,
Howard Jones,
Joe Smooth,
Tom Boy,
The Sound,
Marvin Gaye,
Jerry's Kids,
Radio Birdman,
Black Pus,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Anthony Braxton,
Half Japanese,
Sexual Harrassment,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lou Christie,
Bang On A Can,
Adolescents,
Gil Scott Heron,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.