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 New Zealand and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Drexciya to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Au Pairs,
The Slackers,
Fad Gadget,
Tommy Roe,
Jerry's Kids,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Toasters,
Gregory Isaacs,
Index,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Peter and Kerry,
Sex Pistols,
Tim Buckley,
The Wake,
Roy Ayers,
Idris Muhammad,
the Swans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Japan,
Marvin Gaye,
The Smiths,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultravox,
Camberwell Now,
Kas Product,
China Crisis,
The Angels of Light,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Symarip,
Sam Rivers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sugar Minott,
the Germs,
Hoover,
Wire,
Goldenarms,
Aswad,
Nils Olav,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Laurel Aitken,
Wolf Eyes,
Infiniti,
the Bar-Kays,
Amazonics,
The Buckinghams,
Slick Rick,
The Seeds,
Soft Machine,
Skarface,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Davy DMX,
MDC,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jawbox,
Banda Bassotti,
Iggy Pop,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.