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 Niger and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe 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 Pantaleimon to the techno 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Bill Near,
The Fuzztones,
Lee Hazlewood,
Idris Muhammad,
Brothers Johnson,
the Bar-Kays,
Barry Ungar,
Metal Thangz,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
AZ,
The Fire Engines,
The Saints,
Sugar Minott,
Wally Richardson,
The Selecter,
F. McDonald,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bob Dylan,
Gabor Szabo,
Rekid,
Sound Behaviour,
Bush Tetras,
Qualms,
Delta 5,
Pantaleimon,
Agent Orange,
June Days,
Scion,
Black Sheep,
Delon & Dalcan,
Symarip,
The Monks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Underground Resistance,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Toasters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Bananas,
The Mummies,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Excepter,
Minor Threat,
Au Pairs,
John Holt,
The Flesh Eaters,
Funky Four + One,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Charles Mingus,
UT,
Half Japanese,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Names,
Ralphi Rosario,
Angry Samoans,
Japan,
The Star Department,
Susan Cadogan,
Sixth Finger,
Los Fastidios,
Icehouse,
Bootsy Collins,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.