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 Guyana and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angry Samoans to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Alton Ellis,
Roxette,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Soulsonic Force,
Second Layer,
Pussy Galore,
Joy Division,
Erasure,
Japan,
Agent Orange,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pierre Henry,
Johnny Clarke,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Martian,
the Human League,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brass Construction,
The Litter,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Grauzone,
The Slackers,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Young Rascals,
Minny Pops,
The United States of America,
The Gories,
Icehouse,
Dark Day,
X-102,
Gichy Dan,
Quadrant,
John Foxx,
Yellowson,
Thee Headcoats,
Rod Modell,
Susan Cadogan,
Yazoo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Heaven 17,
The Gladiators,
Radio Birdman,
The Monks,
Y Pants,
Darondo,
Au Pairs,
Rotary Connection,
The Leaves,
Deadbeat,
Glenn Branca,
Danielle Patucci,
The Dirtbombs,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Busters,
Audionom,
Banda Bassotti,
Bad Manners,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Young Marble Giants,
Half Japanese,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.