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 Togo and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Yaz to the disco 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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Angry Samoans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Toni Rubio,
Morten Harket,
Reuben Wilson,
Jerry's Kids,
The Moleskins,
Fat Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric Dolphy,
Laurel Aitken,
a-ha,
Joy Division,
Neu!,
One Last Wish,
Franke,
Radio Birdman,
The Blues Magoos,
Supertramp,
Popol Vuh,
Stetsasonic,
Black Flag,
Radiopuhelimet,
Khruangbin,
Kayak,
Pole,
Scion,
Roxette,
The Velvet Underground,
Harry Pussy,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Technova,
Soul II Soul,
The Fire Engines,
Blake Baxter,
The Flesh Eaters,
Groovy Waters,
Can,
Minnie Riperton,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Unwound,
Aswad,
ABBA,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Steve Hackett,
Model 500,
The Gories,
Gang of Four,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Boz Scaggs,
Hashim,
The Selecter,
The Names,
Howard Jones,
A Certain Ratio,
Liliput,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The 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.