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 China and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gastr Del Sol to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
the Fania All-Stars,
X-Ray Spex,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marmalade,
UT,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Juan Atkins,
The Evens,
Ludus,
Rakim,
Agent Orange,
The Slits,
The Move,
Pierre Henry,
La Düsseldorf,
L. Decosne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dave Gahan,
Pantaleimon,
The Young Rascals,
Ossler,
Pulsallama,
Skriet,
Thee Headcoats,
Aloha Tigers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flash Fearless,
One Last Wish,
The Wake,
The Moody Blues,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joey Negro,
Panda Bear,
Chris & Cosey,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Monks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bluetip,
Drexciya,
Letta Mbulu,
Albert Ayler,
Idris Muhammad,
The Golliwogs,
The Motions,
Infiniti,
Alison Limerick,
Los Fastidios,
Archie Shepp,
The Vogues,
Country Teasers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fortunes,
Motorama,
Lyres,
Lakeside,
David Bowie,
Brand Nubian,
Quantec,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.