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 India and from New York.
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 Manila and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
The Blackbyrds,
Erasure,
Eric Copeland,
Robert Hood,
48th St. Collective,
Can,
Faust,
The Pop Group,
Outsiders,
The Fire Engines,
Crime,
The Index,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brand Nubian,
Soft Cell,
Unwound,
Wasted Youth,
Don Cherry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Skatalites,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Youth Brigade,
Ituana,
Babytalk,
Cameo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Arab on Radar,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quadrant,
Howard Jones,
The Gun Club,
Index,
Procol Harum,
The Tremeloes,
Yaz,
The Music Machine,
Jacques Brel,
June Days,
T. Rex,
L. Decosne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
The Motions,
Bang On A Can,
Judy Mowatt,
Reuben Wilson,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric Dolphy,
Blancmange,
Wally Richardson,
The Gories,
Crash Course in Science,
Barrington Levy,
Arthur Verocai,
The Slits,
Minor Threat,
Lucky Dragons,
John Holt,
Buzzcocks,
The Divine Comedy,
Swans,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.