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 Tajikistan and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Glenn Branca to the rock 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
The Dirtbombs,
Shuggie Otis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aural Exciters,
Piero Umiliani,
Supertramp,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Underground Resistance,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sun City Girls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nico,
the Normal,
The United States of America,
Jawbox,
The Fuzztones,
Radiopuhelimet,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Johnny Osbourne,
Judy Mowatt,
Audionom,
The Associates,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Doors,
The Index,
Von Mondo,
Sister Nancy,
Japan,
Youth Brigade,
Johnny Clarke,
Dave Gahan,
Radiohead,
Sugar Minott,
The Mojo Men,
Colin Newman,
Adolescents,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Warren Ellis,
Parry Music,
Depeche Mode,
Letta Mbulu,
F. McDonald,
Mark Hollis,
Crash Course in Science,
Lalann,
Q and Not U,
Rapeman,
Camberwell Now,
Monks,
Scientists,
Ossler,
Harmonia,
Ituana,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bush Tetras,
Rod Modell,
John Foxx,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.