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 Cape Verde and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Moody Blues to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lalann,
JFA,
The Red Krayola,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lightning Bolt,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
John Cale,
Tres Demented,
The Gun Club,
The Sound,
Lee Hazlewood,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Monochrome Set,
The Fuzztones,
Cybotron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alton Ellis,
Radiohead,
MC5,
John Holt,
Wolf Eyes,
The Vogues,
Wings,
Bang On A Can,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kurtis Blow,
Wasted Youth,
June of 44,
Visage,
Susan Cadogan,
The Electric Prunes,
Gichy Dan,
Kaleidoscope,
Infiniti,
Scott Walker,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
One Last Wish,
Rufus Thomas,
The Smiths,
Unwound,
Skaos,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bill Wells,
Boredoms,
The Remains,
Symarip,
Joe Finger,
Graham Central Station,
The Wake,
Robert Wyatt,
The Tremeloes,
The Slits,
Henry Cow,
The Star Department,
Godley & Creme,
Alice Coltrane,
R.M.O.,
Chrome,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.