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 Fiji and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 The Move to the grime 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Curtis Mayfield,
Intrusion,
the Normal,
Siglo XX,
Pet Shop Boys,
Josef K,
Jandek,
Rapeman,
The Kinks,
Subhumans,
The Leaves,
Scrapy,
AZ,
Model 500,
Hashim,
Fad Gadget,
Liliput,
The New Christs,
Infiniti,
The Music Machine,
Gabor Szabo,
The Mojo Men,
The Star Department,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Toni Rubio,
Eddi Front,
Sarah Menescal,
The Litter,
The Move,
Sight & Sound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cecil Taylor,
Derrick May,
Saccharine Trust,
Flipper,
Letta Mbulu,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Blues Magoos,
Simply Red,
the Soft Cell,
The Searchers,
Nik Kershaw,
Swans,
Severed Heads,
The Moody Blues,
Hasil Adkins,
Brick,
Malaria!,
Lindisfarne,
Boz Scaggs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sun City Girls,
Ituana,
Kurtis Blow,
Skarface,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.