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 Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Roxette to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Saccharine Trust,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Blackbyrds,
The Monks,
Scientists,
Sandy B,
The Raincoats,
Stereo Dub,
The Martian,
The United States of America,
The Smoke,
Barry Ungar,
Warsaw,
EPMD,
Visage,
Brand Nubian,
Sex Pistols,
June Days,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Grey Daturas,
Los Fastidios,
Pantytec,
Barrington Levy,
The Dead C,
Matthew Halsall,
Sonic Youth,
Minutemen,
Sam Rivers,
Cybotron,
ABBA,
The Fire Engines,
The Dirtbombs,
The Invisible,
The Pretty Things,
The Buckinghams,
Roxette,
Moebius,
Little Man,
Darondo,
Inner City,
Mantronix,
Mary Jane Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
The Toasters,
Ronnie Foster,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Subhumans,
Idris Muhammad,
ABC,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Magazine,
Fluxion,
Joe Smooth,
Glenn Branca,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Maurizio,
Loose Ends,
Lebanon Hanover,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.