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 Bhutan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Suburban Knight 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sex Pistols,
Aural Exciters,
Flash Fearless,
Alison Limerick,
Minnie Riperton,
Lindisfarne,
Zero Boys,
Sun Ra,
The Electric Prunes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alice Coltrane,
James White and The Blacks,
Matthew Bourne,
Laurel Aitken,
Byron Stingily,
Cluster,
E-Dancer,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Victims,
Josef K,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Motions,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Monochrome Set,
Barry Ungar,
The Happenings,
Joe Finger,
the Bar-Kays,
The New Christs,
Main Source,
Throbbing Gristle,
Smog,
Nation of Ulysses,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arthur Verocai,
Lalo Schifrin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Real Kids,
Reuben Wilson,
Peter & Gordon,
48th St. Collective,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Chris & Cosey,
Blossom Toes,
D'Angelo,
Dennis Brown,
Crash Course in Science,
Trumans Water,
Nils Olav,
The Pop Group,
the Soft Cell,
The Modern Lovers,
Stiv Bators,
Organ,
Sugar Minott,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pantytec,
The Dead C,
The Knickerbockers,
Ponytail,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.