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 Singapore and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Human League to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
The Gladiators,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Birthday Party,
Circle Jerks,
Colin Newman,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wally Richardson,
Skriet,
Grauzone,
the Human League,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
June of 44,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eve St. Jones,
Accadde A,
Scrapy,
B.T. Express,
Sällskapet,
The Velvet Underground,
The Litter,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eli Mardock,
Los Fastidios,
Massinfluence,
Barry Ungar,
Fad Gadget,
Gang Green,
The Blackbyrds,
Rekid,
Anthony Braxton,
The Divine Comedy,
Sixth Finger,
Lalo Schifrin,
Urselle,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mission of Burma,
Alton Ellis,
John Foxx,
Half Japanese,
Zapp,
The Dirtbombs,
Mandrill,
David Axelrod,
X-Ray Spex,
Lalann,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
T. Rex,
Connie Case,
Monolake,
Fluxion,
Rod Modell,
Con Funk Shun,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Idris Muhammad,
Barrington Levy,
Ohio Players,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.