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 Singapore and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sugar Minott to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Matthew Halsall,
ABBA,
Glenn Branca,
The Black Dice,
Thompson Twins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Guru Guru,
Pulsallama,
Eric Dolphy,
Lalann,
John Cale,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Quantec,
Tres Demented,
Cybotron,
Skriet,
The Saints,
Nik Kershaw,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crime,
Eric B and Rakim,
Theoretical Girls,
The Motions,
The Gladiators,
Morten Harket,
Fear,
The Fire Engines,
L. Decosne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bluetip,
Bauhaus,
The Skatalites,
The Index,
The Martian,
Newcleus,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pere Ubu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Janne Schatter,
Rekid,
Moby Grape,
Can,
Barry Ungar,
Buzzcocks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cal Tjader,
Idris Muhammad,
Eddi Front,
The Grass Roots,
Gichy Dan,
Alton Ellis,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gabor Szabo,
Magazine,
Blake Baxter,
Black Moon,
Absolute Body Control,
the Association,
The Smiths,
Magma,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.