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 San Marino and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 synthesizer 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 Scott Walker to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Spandau Ballet,
The Real Kids,
Jacob Miller,
Pole,
Boredoms,
Supertramp,
Sugar Minott,
Heaven 17,
Ronan,
Minor Threat,
Nas,
Yellowson,
Zapp,
The United States of America,
The Saints,
Buzzcocks,
The Angels of Light,
David Bowie,
Essential Logic,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Velvet Underground,
Soulsonic Force,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Victims,
Toni Rubio,
The Red Krayola,
H. Thieme,
DNA,
The Litter,
Barry Ungar,
Yazoo,
The Selecter,
Danielle Patucci,
Tommy Roe,
Brass Construction,
Harry Pussy,
Pussy Galore,
Second Layer,
Freddie Wadling,
Royal Trux,
Soul II Soul,
EPMD,
Symarip,
Pierre Henry,
Maleditus Sound,
Altered Images,
The Young Rascals,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Matthew Bourne,
Can,
Cal Tjader,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dave Gahan,
Swell Maps,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Knickerbockers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rufus Thomas,
Television Personalities,
The Music Machine,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.