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 Egypt and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron 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 Scientists to the dance 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Davy DMX,
Terry Callier,
Youth Brigade,
ABBA,
Camouflage,
Robert Görl,
Eddi Front,
The Busters,
Yaz,
The Sonics,
Whodini,
Rosa Yemen,
Fat Boys,
Deakin,
The Dead C,
Nico,
Colin Newman,
The Victims,
The Kinks,
Joy Division,
Dorothy Ashby,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fear,
The Cure,
Unwound,
Y Pants,
One Last Wish,
Shoche,
E-Dancer,
Judy Mowatt,
Susan Cadogan,
Niagra,
Gang Gang Dance,
AZ,
Warren Ellis,
Alice Coltrane,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ronnie Foster,
Gong,
The Knickerbockers,
Glenn Branca,
Graham Central Station,
Marine Girls,
UT,
Scion,
Scan 7,
MDC,
Rapeman,
The Golliwogs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Thee Headcoats,
Pet Shop Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sonic Youth,
the Germs,
Brass Construction,
Kenny Larkin,
The Zeros,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.