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 Guinea-Bissau and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 chamberlin 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 Quantec to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Yusef Lateef,
The Doors,
Harmonia,
The Skatalites,
Stereo Dub,
E-Dancer,
Oneida,
the Slits,
The Blues Magoos,
Outsiders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Porter Ricks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Knickerbockers,
Yellowson,
Basic Channel,
Ken Boothe,
Hoover,
The Slits,
Slave,
Adolescents,
Maurizio,
Dead Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Organ,
Cameo,
Symarip,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Isaac Hayes,
Kenny Larkin,
The Stooges,
MC5,
Chris Corsano,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Joyce Sims,
The Index,
The Real Kids,
Joensuu 1685,
Tres Demented,
Sexual Harrassment,
Surgeon,
China Crisis,
The Motions,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Pretty Things,
This Heat,
Y Pants,
8 Eyed Spy,
DJ Sneak,
Qualms,
Underground Resistance,
Tim Buckley,
Grandmaster Flash,
Glambeats Corp.,
New York Dolls,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Associates,
The Techniques,
Archie Shepp,
ABBA,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.