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 Sri Lanka and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Letta Mbulu,
Crime,
Visage,
Swell Maps,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Althea and Donna,
Dorothy Ashby,
Khruangbin,
The Walker Brothers,
F. McDonald,
Harpers Bizarre,
New York Dolls,
Skriet,
Fatback Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scan 7,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Pus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Judy Mowatt,
Slick Rick,
Eric Dolphy,
Deakin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Unrelated Segments,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wally Richardson,
Monolake,
Marshall Jefferson,
Danielle Patucci,
Mark Hollis,
Alton Ellis,
Tom Boy,
Agent Orange,
The Move,
Pussy Galore,
The Electric Prunes,
Barrington Levy,
Outsiders,
Juan Atkins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Swans,
Excepter,
Matthew Bourne,
Sonic Youth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Delta 5,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Doors,
Neu!,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Section 25,
Colin Newman,
Whodini,
The Gladiators,
Blossom Toes,
Das Ding,
Ten City,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Grass Roots,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.