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 Chile and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pet Shop Boys to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
the Sonics,
Amon Düül,
Josef K,
Bobby Byrd,
Gregory Isaacs,
Monks,
Nik Kershaw,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Adolescents,
Kenny Larkin,
Flipper,
The Cure,
Liliput,
Agent Orange,
kango's stein massive,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Amon Düül II,
Guru Guru,
The Victims,
Neil Young,
Barry Ungar,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jacques Brel,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Angels of Light,
Iggy Pop,
Patti Smith,
Soulsonic Force,
Eurythmics,
Lee Hazlewood,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Faust,
Wire,
Gang of Four,
JFA,
Kurtis Blow,
Lucky Dragons,
Sällskapet,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Moleskins,
Piero Umiliani,
Sam Rivers,
The Birthday Party,
Godley & Creme,
Ornette Coleman,
Letta Mbulu,
David McCallum,
James White and The Blacks,
Eve St. Jones,
Dead Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Harpers Bizarre,
a-ha,
Delon & Dalcan,
Magma,
Eric B and Rakim,
Andrew Hill,
Sun City Girls,
The Alarm Clocks,
Khruangbin,
Bill Wells,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.