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 Guinea and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Janne Schatter to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Funky Four + One,
Delon & Dalcan,
New Age Steppers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pere Ubu,
Faraquet,
Shuggie Otis,
Babytalk,
Quando Quango,
Joyce Sims,
Jawbox,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joey Negro,
Avey Tare,
The Misunderstood,
Cybotron,
Urselle,
Hot Snakes,
The Monks,
The Dead C,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cal Tjader,
Gang Starr,
Lebanon Hanover,
Unrelated Segments,
Skriet,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Red Krayola,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Moss Icon,
New York Dolls,
Hasil Adkins,
Suburban Knight,
Thompson Twins,
Soulsonic Force,
Chris Corsano,
Country Teasers,
Pierre Henry,
Gabor Szabo,
Moebius,
The Wake,
Aswad,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sun Ra,
Pagans,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Leaves,
kango's stein massive,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ornette Coleman,
Tim Buckley,
Guru Guru,
Al Stewart,
Little Man,
The Fugs,
The Slackers,
The Fortunes,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.