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 Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Skriet to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Minor Threat,
Sun Ra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pantytec,
Chris Corsano,
Slave,
The Move,
the Association,
Johnny Clarke,
Ten City,
the Sonics,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Deepchord,
Peter and Kerry,
Lightning Bolt,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fire Engines,
The Slackers,
Bronski Beat,
Interpol,
Vladislav Delay,
Jandek,
Duran Duran,
The Knickerbockers,
Soulsonic Force,
Chrome,
R.M.O.,
Davy DMX,
Soul II Soul,
the Swans,
Judy Mowatt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sixth Finger,
Joyce Sims,
The Litter,
Marvin Gaye,
Amon Düül II,
Underground Resistance,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Robert Görl,
Blossom Toes,
Moss Icon,
Kas Product,
Moby Grape,
The Wake,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tim Buckley,
Organ,
Pussy Galore,
Jawbox,
the Bar-Kays,
Sugar Minott,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Severed Heads,
Archie Shepp,
Pet Shop Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Agent Orange,
One Last Wish,
Sandy B,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deadbeat,
Tubeway Army,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.