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 Malawi and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Jakarta.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Gories to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 UT. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Pus,
Harry Pussy,
Joy Division,
Faust,
Black Bananas,
Eddi Front,
Circle Jerks,
The Smoke,
Japan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kayak,
Scan 7,
Grauzone,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ken Boothe,
Tom Boy,
Ohio Players,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Newcleus,
Colin Newman,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jandek,
One Last Wish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
48th St. Collective,
John Lydon,
Boredoms,
Kerrie Biddell,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Minutemen,
Brand Nubian,
Mars,
Pylon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jerry's Kids,
Monolake,
Sun Ra,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cluster,
The Modern Lovers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sam Rivers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sixth Finger,
Hashim,
The Smiths,
Duran Duran,
Alphaville,
Letta Mbulu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dual Sessions,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bill Wells,
Fela Kuti,
Ituana,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.