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 Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the techno 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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
MDC,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nas,
Quantec,
In Retrospect,
Panda Bear,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
PIL,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kaleidoscope,
The J.B.'s,
Max Romeo,
Letta Mbulu,
Liliput,
Q and Not U,
The Fuzztones,
the Sonics,
Barrington Levy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
T. Rex,
The Index,
Joyce Sims,
D'Angelo,
Hardrive,
the Human League,
The Red Krayola,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Soft Cell,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Bananas,
The Vogues,
Jeff Lynne,
Crooked Eye,
KRS-One,
Bronski Beat,
Spoonie Gee,
Arab on Radar,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
H. Thieme,
Warsaw,
Duran Duran,
The Remains,
David Bowie,
Darondo,
Brass Construction,
Goldenarms,
June of 44,
Vladislav Delay,
The Zeros,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Throbbing Gristle,
The United States of America,
Thee Headcoats,
Smog,
UT,
Harmonia,
Ice-T,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.