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 Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Albert Ayler to the rap 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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Human League,
The Gladiators,
Neu!,
Mad Mike,
Man Eating Sloth,
James White and The Blacks,
Charles Mingus,
Pole,
Black Sheep,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fad Gadget,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pere Ubu,
The Gories,
The Tremeloes,
Dawn Penn,
Mr. Review,
Country Teasers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tropical Tobacco,
Franke,
Sex Pistols,
The Fall,
Warren Ellis,
Anakelly,
The Last Poets,
Hashim,
L. Decosne,
Bobby Sherman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Robert Hood,
H. Thieme,
The Young Rascals,
LL Cool J,
Matthew Halsall,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
E-Dancer,
Cheater Slicks,
The Monks,
R.M.O.,
Basic Channel,
Stetsasonic,
Gerry Rafferty,
Maurizio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jeff Mills,
Boredoms,
Toni Rubio,
The Leaves,
Absolute Body Control,
Bad Manners,
Rakim,
Yellowson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang of Four,
Arcadia,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marmalade,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Smiths,
Avey Tare,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.