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 Oman and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Moby Grape,
Jeff Lynne,
Mad Mike,
Arab on Radar,
Max Romeo,
Surgeon,
Boz Scaggs,
The Saints,
Newcleus,
Warsaw,
X-101,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Grass Roots,
The Electric Prunes,
Massinfluence,
The Standells,
The Divine Comedy,
The Golliwogs,
Bobby Sherman,
Scion,
Mission of Burma,
Can,
Marmalade,
The Toasters,
Sarah Menescal,
Negative Approach,
Alice Coltrane,
The Sonics,
Porter Ricks,
Laurel Aitken,
Oblivians,
Grauzone,
Anakelly,
Joey Negro,
Subhumans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cameo,
Matthew Halsall,
Hardrive,
Symarip,
Ossler,
Michelle Simonal,
The Zeros,
Yazoo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marvin Gaye,
Man Parrish,
John Cale,
L. Decosne,
The Mummies,
Al Stewart,
Banda Bassotti,
X-102,
These Immortal Souls,
Unwound,
Mark Hollis,
Magazine,
Underground Resistance,
Von Mondo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Swans,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.