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 Vietnam and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 June of 44 to the jazz 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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Laurel Aitken,
Roxette,
Sugar Minott,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bobby Byrd,
Barrington Levy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bill Wells,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rotary Connection,
MC5,
The Smiths,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Average White Band,
Khruangbin,
Buzzcocks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Robert Hood,
Niagra,
Yellowson,
Swell Maps,
Amazonics,
Blake Baxter,
Public Enemy,
T. Rex,
Black Moon,
Newcleus,
Neu!,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cheater Slicks,
Popol Vuh,
Television,
Drexciya,
Nation of Ulysses,
Circle Jerks,
Kerri Chandler,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sound,
The Human League,
Lyres,
Skriet,
Marc Almond,
Gang Green,
Neil Young,
John Holt,
Organ,
Ituana,
Skarface,
Fugazi,
The Five Americans,
Donny Hathaway,
The Monks,
Michelle Simonal,
The Busters,
Susan Cadogan,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.