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 Uganda and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ 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 Tom Boy to the grunge 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Hasil Adkins,
Carl Craig,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Monochrome Set,
Peter & Gordon,
Eli Mardock,
Zapp,
Ice-T,
John Holt,
The Litter,
Black Moon,
Desert Stars,
Black Flag,
Spandau Ballet,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Monks,
Buzzcocks,
Das Ding,
Aural Exciters,
Jawbox,
Bauhaus,
Amon Düül,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Angels of Light,
David McCallum,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wally Richardson,
The Raincoats,
Harmonia,
Stereo Dub,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Q and Not U,
Niagra,
Outsiders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fuzztones,
Crispy Ambulance,
Y Pants,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Detroit Cobras,
UT,
Monolake,
The Grass Roots,
Groovy Waters,
Blossom Toes,
The Smoke,
The New Christs,
Mo-Dettes,
Cluster,
Eric Dolphy,
Gastr Del Sol,
DNA,
Radiohead,
Nils Olav,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Janne Schatter,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Flesh Eaters,
Maleditus Sound,
the Slits,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.