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 Luxembourg and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 synthesizer 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 Ken Boothe to the crunk 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Angels of Light,
Letta Mbulu,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Television,
Alison Limerick,
Ornette Coleman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Funkadelic,
Bill Wells,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Delta 5,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fear,
Ralphi Rosario,
a-ha,
Interpol,
Warsaw,
Carl Craig,
Gang of Four,
Magma,
Robert Hood,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Joey Negro,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Banda Bassotti,
Nas,
Adolescents,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tubeway Army,
EPMD,
The Cure,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cluster,
Swans,
Moby Grape,
Eli Mardock,
The Blackbyrds,
Marc Almond,
Cal Tjader,
Saccharine Trust,
Bob Dylan,
Harry Pussy,
Nick Fraelich,
Angry Samoans,
Curtis Mayfield,
Althea and Donna,
Barbara Tucker,
Dave Gahan,
The Invisible,
Mandrill,
Amon Düül II,
B.T. Express,
Scratch Acid,
Infiniti,
The Saints,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Loose Ends,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.