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 Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Jawbox to the rap 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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Human League,
48th St. Collective,
Groovy Waters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gang of Four,
Deepchord,
Arab on Radar,
The Cramps,
The Leaves,
James White and The Blacks,
Sonic Youth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
The Monochrome Set,
Drive Like Jehu,
Boz Scaggs,
New York Dolls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nik Kershaw,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sun Ra,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rotary Connection,
The Black Dice,
Alton Ellis,
Scan 7,
Brick,
Slick Rick,
Grauzone,
Adolescents,
The Stooges,
Eddi Front,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Don Cherry,
Sight & Sound,
T. Rex,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kerrie Biddell,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Neu!,
Masters at Work,
Peter & Gordon,
Joe Smooth,
Scratch Acid,
the Soft Cell,
Laurel Aitken,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sparks,
Arthur Verocai,
Juan Atkins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
John Lydon,
Jawbox,
Danielle Patucci,
Marc Almond,
Buzzcocks,
Interpol,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.