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 Luxembourg and from London.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Flipper 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Human League,
The Trojans,
Television Personalities,
Blossom Toes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Monks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
AZ,
Idris Muhammad,
Second Layer,
Scientists,
Junior Murvin,
Sarah Menescal,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Busters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Duran Duran,
Motorama,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fugazi,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fugs,
Rekid,
Skriet,
Lyres,
Brothers Johnson,
The Invisible,
Eve St. Jones,
DJ Sneak,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Das Ding,
Juan Atkins,
Q65,
Rakim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lou Christie,
Mantronix,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gang Green,
Jerry's Kids,
David Bowie,
MC5,
Jeff Mills,
Spandau Ballet,
The Smoke,
Cheater Slicks,
The Count Five,
Bad Manners,
Hasil Adkins,
Todd Terry,
Underground Resistance,
Lakeside,
Flamin' Groovies,
Arthur Verocai,
Bluetip,
Porter Ricks,
Godley & Creme,
Scott Walker,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.