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 Afghanistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Qualms to the grunge 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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator 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 chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fear,
The Slits,
Al Stewart,
Public Enemy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Los Fastidios,
China Crisis,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lou Reed,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Divine Comedy,
The Invisible,
This Heat,
Bob Dylan,
Wally Richardson,
The Techniques,
the Germs,
The Vogues,
Letta Mbulu,
Smog,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Can,
Circle Jerks,
Mr. Review,
a-ha,
Ludus,
Skriet,
The Tremeloes,
Von Mondo,
Marvin Gaye,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scratch Acid,
Interpol,
Godley & Creme,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cluster,
Junior Murvin,
Panda Bear,
Heaven 17,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Lydon,
The Fuzztones,
The Star Department,
In Retrospect,
Liliput,
Malaria!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tubeway Army,
The Sound,
The Offenders,
Chris Corsano,
Leonard Cohen,
Don Cherry,
Buzzcocks,
Flipper,
Isaac Hayes,
Roy Ayers,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.