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 Zimbabwe and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lagos.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in 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 Eli Mardock 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
The Busters,
The Doors,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Görl,
Minutemen,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Soft Cell,
Aaron Thompson,
Donald Byrd,
The Durutti Column,
Parry Music,
the Slits,
The Fortunes,
Lou Christie,
Harry Pussy,
Country Teasers,
Barbara Tucker,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cluster,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Smiths,
The Slits,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Black Sheep,
Terrestrial Tones,
Warren Ellis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Easy Going,
Moss Icon,
Zero Boys,
Pere Ubu,
Moby Grape,
Yaz,
Black Bananas,
Jerry's Kids,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tommy Roe,
Glenn Branca,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Suicide,
Black Pus,
Jandek,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Arab on Radar,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ten City,
Jeff Lynne,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dawn Penn,
DJ Style,
Fat Boys,
Erykah Badu,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gabor Szabo,
Marmalade,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Masters at Work,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rapeman,
Nils Olav,
The Saints,
X-102,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.