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 Philippines and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 harpsichord 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
New York Dolls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lou Christie,
The Index,
Tres Demented,
Pantytec,
Steve Hackett,
Boogie Down Productions,
Youth Brigade,
Alice Coltrane,
The Durutti Column,
Don Cherry,
Heaven 17,
The Tremeloes,
Inner City,
Cymande,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lightning Bolt,
Robert Görl,
Black Sheep,
Suicide,
Saccharine Trust,
Dawn Penn,
Sister Nancy,
Minutemen,
Bob Dylan,
Minnie Riperton,
KRS-One,
Susan Cadogan,
Mission of Burma,
Alphaville,
Johnny Osbourne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Toni Rubio,
Sarah Menescal,
Nik Kershaw,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tommy Roe,
The Grass Roots,
EPMD,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Wally Richardson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Motorama,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scion,
Liliput,
Nirvana,
DJ Style,
This Heat,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bush Tetras,
Sun Ra,
the Normal,
Livin' Joy,
X-102,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.