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 Liechtenstein and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 DNA to the grunge 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Tim Buckley,
Pet Shop Boys,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Nas,
Darondo,
Popol Vuh,
Rosa Yemen,
Barbara Tucker,
Ossler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Derrick May,
Isaac Hayes,
Smog,
Severed Heads,
Anakelly,
Faust,
The Stooges,
Shoche,
Tres Demented,
Mr. Review,
The Gap Band,
Skriet,
Man Eating Sloth,
Susan Cadogan,
Archie Shepp,
Robert Wyatt,
Harmonia,
Mantronix,
Cheater Slicks,
Erasure,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Agent Orange,
The Dead C,
The Selecter,
Wings,
Goldenarms,
Theoretical Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Wolf Eyes,
The Smiths,
Faraquet,
Derrick Morgan,
Sparks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Letta Mbulu,
The Dirtbombs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Maleditus Sound,
Avey Tare,
Motorama,
The Victims,
Inner City,
Kerri Chandler,
Infiniti,
Toni Rubio,
Agitation Free,
the Sonics,
Iggy Pop,
Index,
Soft Machine,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.