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 Libya and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator 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 The Flesh Eaters to the rock 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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Young Marble Giants,
DJ Sneak,
Lindisfarne,
The United States of America,
One Last Wish,
Lungfish,
Faraquet,
Goldenarms,
Au Pairs,
Michelle Simonal,
Intrusion,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Pop Group,
48th St. Collective,
Sixth Finger,
Yellowson,
Gang of Four,
Matthew Halsall,
Barbara Tucker,
The Names,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dawn Penn,
World's Most,
ABC,
Monolake,
The Mummies,
Minnie Riperton,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Negative Approach,
Rekid,
Zapp,
The Dead C,
Barclay James Harvest,
Absolute Body Control,
Minny Pops,
Grauzone,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Warsaw,
Boredoms,
The Searchers,
Nik Kershaw,
Animal Collective,
Loose Ends,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amazonics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Amon Düül II,
Black Flag,
Ornette Coleman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Remains,
Iggy Pop,
Y Pants,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Alison Limerick,
Dennis Brown,
Bronski Beat,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.