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 France and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gong to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Public Enemy,
Gang Starr,
Juan Atkins,
Heaven 17,
Young Marble Giants,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
LL Cool J,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Agent Orange,
Underground Resistance,
Hasil Adkins,
Janne Schatter,
The Busters,
Rapeman,
Minnie Riperton,
Blake Baxter,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
MDC,
The Slits,
Joe Smooth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bang On A Can,
the Bar-Kays,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Boredoms,
Con Funk Shun,
Todd Rundgren,
The Gladiators,
Shuggie Otis,
the Slits,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soulsonic Force,
Can,
Simply Red,
Harry Pussy,
The Monochrome Set,
Aswad,
Chrome,
The Grass Roots,
The Neon Judgement,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Warsaw,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Howard Jones,
Erasure,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rufus Thomas,
Swans,
Angry Samoans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
John Foxx,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joensuu 1685,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Laurel Aitken,
Max Romeo,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.