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 Spain and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Blackbyrds to the punk 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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Hood,
The Five Americans,
Porter Ricks,
Theoretical Girls,
Mandrill,
Model 500,
Public Enemy,
Bush Tetras,
Soft Machine,
Black Flag,
The Misunderstood,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Derrick May,
Shuggie Otis,
a-ha,
The Index,
Alison Limerick,
Lalann,
Chris Corsano,
Country Teasers,
the Sonics,
Dennis Brown,
Juan Atkins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scion,
the Germs,
Harmonia,
Ronan,
Barrington Levy,
Lightning Bolt,
Organ,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tears for Fears,
Subhumans,
Ponytail,
The Searchers,
The Slits,
Kas Product,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Black Dice,
Dark Day,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lungfish,
Eve St. Jones,
The Litter,
The Standells,
Skarface,
Dawn Penn,
Guru Guru,
John Holt,
Camberwell Now,
Swell Maps,
Todd Rundgren,
EPMD,
KRS-One,
The Techniques,
Bizarre Inc.,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.