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 Sierra Leone and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
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 theremin 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 Wake to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy 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 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Offenders,
Television,
This Heat,
The Slackers,
Altered Images,
Bad Manners,
Underground Resistance,
Sällskapet,
Moby Grape,
World's Most,
Kas Product,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nas,
Deakin,
James White and The Blacks,
T.S.O.L.,
Boz Scaggs,
Nico,
The Fire Engines,
E-Dancer,
Josef K,
Easy Going,
The Names,
Porter Ricks,
Kaleidoscope,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brand Nubian,
F. McDonald,
Sam Rivers,
Blossom Toes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
OOIOO,
Hoover,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joensuu 1685,
Theoretical Girls,
the Human League,
Circle Jerks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scion,
Radiohead,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Main Source,
Youth Brigade,
Cameo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pussy Galore,
The Angels of Light,
Boogie Down Productions,
Suburban Knight,
Amon Düül II,
Japan,
Scott Walker,
X-Ray Spex,
The Dead C,
Grauzone,
Barclay James Harvest,
Darondo,
Wire,
Nick Fraelich,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.