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 Azerbaijan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the techno 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
The Angels of Light,
Crash Course in Science,
Average White Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Radiohead,
Mr. Review,
Hot Snakes,
Motorama,
Fugazi,
Sexual Harrassment,
FM Einheit,
Mantronix,
Q65,
Arcadia,
Thee Headcoats,
The Selecter,
Mission of Burma,
Robert Hood,
John Coltrane,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tim Buckley,
ABC,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Subhumans,
B.T. Express,
Wally Richardson,
Y Pants,
Popol Vuh,
Erasure,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nick Fraelich,
DNA,
Tears for Fears,
Saccharine Trust,
Boredoms,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Youth Brigade,
Jacob Miller,
Duran Duran,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sarah Menescal,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gichy Dan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sonic Youth,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Tremeloes,
Brothers Johnson,
Ronnie Foster,
The Black Dice,
Barclay James Harvest,
D'Angelo,
Tres Demented,
The Count Five,
New Order,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kayak,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.