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 Eritrea and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Tommy Roe to the grime 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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter & Gordon,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Germs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kurtis Blow,
Unwound,
Kool Moe Dee,
Arthur Verocai,
Godley & Creme,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Radio Birdman,
Procol Harum,
Scan 7,
Excepter,
Eli Mardock,
Alton Ellis,
Tubeway Army,
Fela Kuti,
Ossler,
Pet Shop Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
The Flesh Eaters,
PIL,
Symarip,
Althea and Donna,
The Wake,
Isaac Hayes,
Banda Bassotti,
The Electric Prunes,
Blossom Toes,
The Invisible,
Sister Nancy,
Soulsonic Force,
The Gun Club,
Dead Boys,
Derrick May,
Soft Machine,
Thee Headcoats,
The Residents,
China Crisis,
Peter and Kerry,
Bill Near,
The Cure,
Eric Copeland,
Maleditus Sound,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
John Lydon,
Motorama,
Sixth Finger,
Ituana,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marshall Jefferson,
Shuggie Otis,
Carl Craig,
Bobby Womack,
The Cramps,
World's Most,
Ten City,
Jacob Miller,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cal Tjader,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.