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 Rwanda and from Tehran.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gun Club to the dance 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television Personalities,
Circle Jerks,
These Immortal Souls,
Rekid,
Q and Not U,
Duran Duran,
Gang Starr,
U.S. Maple,
The Fortunes,
Magazine,
Blancmange,
JFA,
World's Most,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Babytalk,
Procol Harum,
Pussy Galore,
Neu!,
The Barracudas,
DJ Sneak,
June Days,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sexual Harrassment,
Skaos,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Deakin,
The Searchers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Deepchord,
Don Cherry,
The Litter,
The Doors,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Depeche Mode,
The Blackbyrds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eric Dolphy,
Cheater Slicks,
The Cure,
Sällskapet,
The Sonics,
Joensuu 1685,
The Zeros,
the Sonics,
The Gun Club,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
MC5,
Susan Cadogan,
Neil Young,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-102,
Mary Jane Girls,
Excepter,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Red Krayola,
Stiv Bators,
The Vogues,
Eric B and Rakim,
David Bowie,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Visage,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.