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 Slovenia and from Tehran.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Young Rascals to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Rapeman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Zero Boys,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Flipper,
The Index,
Joyce Sims,
Bobby Sherman,
The Five Americans,
Roy Ayers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Supertramp,
Echospace,
Glenn Branca,
Nils Olav,
The Busters,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eric Dolphy,
Slave,
Sixth Finger,
The Victims,
Circle Jerks,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Leaves,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gang Starr,
Fat Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jawbox,
The Seeds,
Susan Cadogan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Smog,
The Standells,
The Neon Judgement,
Pulsallama,
Angry Samoans,
Deadbeat,
Roger Hodgson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Juan Atkins,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Connie Case,
X-101,
Mary Jane Girls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Gun Club,
Severed Heads,
China Crisis,
Desert Stars,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Johnny Clarke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Sonics,
Ken Boothe,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.