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 Estonia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin 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 The J.B.'s to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Minny Pops,
The Zeros,
The Moody Blues,
Vladislav Delay,
The Offenders,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Visage,
Zero Boys,
Tubeway Army,
Yazoo,
Sarah Menescal,
Amazonics,
Barry Ungar,
Donny Hathaway,
Shuggie Otis,
T. Rex,
Masters at Work,
The Martian,
Sexual Harrassment,
Charles Mingus,
In Retrospect,
The Stooges,
Matthew Bourne,
The Trojans,
The Slackers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Trumans Water,
Donald Byrd,
Index,
Ornette Coleman,
The Gladiators,
Lungfish,
Porter Ricks,
Surgeon,
La Düsseldorf,
Lindisfarne,
The Modern Lovers,
Nirvana,
Freddie Wadling,
Outsiders,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Toasters,
Josef K,
Spandau Ballet,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Loose Ends,
Joensuu 1685,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scott Walker,
AZ,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Clear Light,
Main Source,
the Slits,
Buzzcocks,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Gang Green,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fugs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.