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 Switzerland and from Johannesburg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Ken Boothe to the rock 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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Blake Baxter,
Liliput,
Sparks,
Eden Ahbez,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Skriet,
kango's stein massive,
Wings,
Flipper,
Saccharine Trust,
Minutemen,
Idris Muhammad,
Bang On A Can,
Mars,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bad Manners,
The Skatalites,
Youth Brigade,
Cymande,
Ronnie Foster,
Jacques Brel,
Dorothy Ashby,
Main Source,
Amon Düül,
Roy Ayers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hardrive,
The Flesh Eaters,
Supertramp,
Dave Gahan,
Heaven 17,
Nick Fraelich,
The Kinks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Steve Hackett,
Lucky Dragons,
The United States of America,
Sexual Harrassment,
E-Dancer,
Ken Boothe,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Talk Talk,
Chris Corsano,
The Red Krayola,
John Cale,
Rapeman,
The Offenders,
Essential Logic,
Eddi Front,
Connie Case,
These Immortal Souls,
June Days,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Minny Pops,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.