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 Egypt and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Johannesburg and Edmonton.
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 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 Barrington Levy to the techno 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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Country Teasers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
AZ,
Lindisfarne,
Bush Tetras,
Dawn Penn,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Soft Machine,
Alphaville,
the Association,
Whodini,
The Human League,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Barry Ungar,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Gap Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Faraquet,
FM Einheit,
The Names,
The New Christs,
Black Sheep,
These Immortal Souls,
Junior Murvin,
The Sonics,
Freddie Wadling,
Josef K,
The Selecter,
The Raincoats,
Audionom,
Joe Finger,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Circle Jerks,
Bob Dylan,
Supertramp,
The Modern Lovers,
Juan Atkins,
Alison Limerick,
Second Layer,
Motorama,
The Black Dice,
Los Fastidios,
Jeru the Damaja,
Patti Smith,
Vainqueur,
Lebanon Hanover,
Surgeon,
John Lydon,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Real Kids,
Model 500,
Hasil Adkins,
the Slits,
The Durutti Column,
Interpol,
The Blues Magoos,
Gichy Dan,
Jerry's Kids,
Theoretical Girls,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.