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 Iraq and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Marcia Griffiths to the punk 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Joy Division,
Mantronix,
Graham Central Station,
Rotary Connection,
Tres Demented,
a-ha,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The American Breed,
Das Ding,
Sparks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Interpol,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hoover,
Stockholm Monsters,
David Bowie,
Silicon Teens,
Liliput,
ABC,
Model 500,
Curtis Mayfield,
Circle Jerks,
Suburban Knight,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Moby Grape,
The Fall,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Five Americans,
Infiniti,
Bluetip,
Popol Vuh,
Black Bananas,
The Smoke,
the Fania All-Stars,
Skarface,
The Busters,
The Stooges,
Loose Ends,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Remains,
Supertramp,
Animal Collective,
Robert Wyatt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Al Stewart,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Moleskins,
Monolake,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Shuggie Otis,
Nas,
Gong,
E-Dancer,
Bootsy Collins,
Harpers Bizarre,
World's Most,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bronski Beat,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.