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 Netherlands and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Alphaville to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
Inner City,
Yazoo,
the Slits,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Procol Harum,
Eric Copeland,
Depeche Mode,
H. Thieme,
Lower 48,
Tom Boy,
UT,
Don Cherry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tres Demented,
Gong,
Maleditus Sound,
The Associates,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sight & Sound,
Make Up,
Mark Hollis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fatback Band,
Pagans,
In Retrospect,
Delon & Dalcan,
Hot Snakes,
The Fuzztones,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultra Naté,
Sixth Finger,
Connie Case,
New Order,
the Bar-Kays,
The Wake,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mandrill,
Barry Ungar,
Soft Cell,
Fat Boys,
JFA,
The Monks,
Alphaville,
Parry Music,
Joey Negro,
The Residents,
Neu!,
The Stooges,
Unwound,
The Dave Clark Five,
Iggy Pop,
Country Joe & The Fish,
This Heat,
Altered Images,
Erasure,
The Smoke,
The Monochrome Set,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sexual Harrassment,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.