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 Afghanistan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Michael McDonald 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 Scan 7 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Organ,
Lindisfarne,
F. McDonald,
Grey Daturas,
Young Marble Giants,
The Gories,
Brand Nubian,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ice-T,
Scrapy,
Urselle,
The Wake,
Flipper,
Lalann,
Motorama,
The Walker Brothers,
H. Thieme,
Sonic Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bill Wells,
The Victims,
The Doors,
Ultra Naté,
Unwound,
Aswad,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Amon Düül II,
Charles Mingus,
Joensuu 1685,
New Order,
X-101,
10cc,
Faust,
World's Most,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mr. Review,
Godley & Creme,
Negative Approach,
Piero Umiliani,
Radiohead,
the Bar-Kays,
Siglo XX,
Bang On A Can,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Trumans Water,
Flash Fearless,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Misunderstood,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Franke,
Heaven 17,
Scan 7,
The Mojo Men,
Arthur Verocai,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.