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 Mauritania 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Rites of Spring to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Buzzcocks,
Popol Vuh,
Rosa Yemen,
Tomorrow,
Derrick Morgan,
Mad Mike,
Spandau Ballet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
China Crisis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ken Boothe,
Henry Cow,
The Gladiators,
Aural Exciters,
Au Pairs,
Alison Limerick,
Simply Red,
Robert Görl,
Jawbox,
X-102,
Deepchord,
Freddie Wadling,
LL Cool J,
Ludus,
Lee Hazlewood,
Section 25,
Niagra,
The Last Poets,
Visage,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Judy Mowatt,
Duran Duran,
Crispy Ambulance,
Spoonie Gee,
The Stooges,
Nick Fraelich,
Prince Buster,
Das Ding,
Roy Ayers,
Scott Walker,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Divine Comedy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Charles Mingus,
Electric Prunes,
Shuggie Otis,
Cheater Slicks,
cv313,
Talk Talk,
Skriet,
The Dirtbombs,
Wasted Youth,
Sun Ra,
Blancmange,
Archie Shepp,
Sam Rivers,
Skaos,
Technova,
Dennis Brown,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Slits,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.