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 Belize and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 Traffic Nightmare to the techno 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
John Foxx,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mars,
The Remains,
Darondo,
A Certain Ratio,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gong,
Make Up,
The Pretty Things,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Chrome,
Prince Buster,
Kenny Larkin,
Pole,
Rites of Spring,
Alphaville,
Judy Mowatt,
Aural Exciters,
The Cramps,
Von Mondo,
PIL,
Silicon Teens,
Joey Negro,
Spoonie Gee,
Jerry's Kids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mandrill,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nick Fraelich,
Babytalk,
Henry Cow,
Jerry Gold Smith,
K-Klass,
The Knickerbockers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Niagra,
Oneida,
Reagan Youth,
the Swans,
the Association,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bang On A Can,
Nico,
The Beau Brummels,
kango's stein massive,
Howard Jones,
Sixth Finger,
Oblivians,
Black Sheep,
Sugar Minott,
Qualms,
The Associates,
The Techniques,
Sex Pistols,
Ohio Players,
The Residents,
The New Christs,
The Walker Brothers,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.