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 Finland and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Masters at Work to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Bill Wells,
Drive Like Jehu,
Piero Umiliani,
Brothers Johnson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Max Romeo,
June Days,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Glenn Branca,
Barry Ungar,
Connie Case,
Public Enemy,
Fugazi,
Gong,
Pierre Henry,
Gil Scott Heron,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rod Modell,
The Monochrome Set,
The Mummies,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Reed,
Ralphi Rosario,
Davy DMX,
The Durutti Column,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Thompson Twins,
The Victims,
Freddie Wadling,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Swans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Monks,
Heaven 17,
The Pretty Things,
Radiopuhelimet,
Make Up,
Robert Görl,
T. Rex,
Joensuu 1685,
Moebius,
Jeff Lynne,
Infiniti,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Smiths,
Cluster,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ronnie Foster,
Warsaw,
Franke,
Erasure,
Bush Tetras,
Neu!,
Warren Ellis,
Q and Not U,
Harry Pussy,
Ice-T,
Bobby Womack,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.