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 Lebanon and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Depeche Mode to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
David McCallum,
Marine Girls,
Pierre Henry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Remains,
The Knickerbockers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Stetsasonic,
Los Fastidios,
Sexual Harrassment,
Underground Resistance,
Joy Division,
The Busters,
Roger Hodgson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Isaac Hayes,
Agent Orange,
The Cure,
Funky Four + One,
The Barracudas,
Robert Wyatt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fall,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rekid,
Delta 5,
Gang Starr,
Crooked Eye,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Glenn Branca,
Delon & Dalcan,
Skaos,
Laurel Aitken,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Liliput,
Darondo,
FM Einheit,
Cybotron,
Electric Prunes,
The Smiths,
The Trojans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Vainqueur,
Ituana,
Slave,
ABC,
Funkadelic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Excepter,
Franke,
Rufus Thomas,
The Red Krayola,
Mars,
Sandy B,
Quantec,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Deakin,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.