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 Iran and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord 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 Suicide to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Gang Green,
Rapeman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fuzztones,
Index,
The Flesh Eaters,
Warsaw,
One Last Wish,
Nils Olav,
Lucky Dragons,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
The Knickerbockers,
Peter and Kerry,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moss Icon,
The Searchers,
Can,
Lee Hazlewood,
Supertramp,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kevin Saunderson,
Quadrant,
Jimmy McGriff,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Arthur Verocai,
Erasure,
Pole,
Fugazi,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Anthony Braxton,
Wasted Youth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Massinfluence,
the Human League,
the Germs,
Amon Düül II,
The Sound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mission of Burma,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gap Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Tres Demented,
Terry Callier,
Unrelated Segments,
The Gun Club,
David Bowie,
Buzzcocks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Walker Brothers,
The Moleskins,
Eli Mardock,
Zapp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Michelle Simonal,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.