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 Kiribati and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba 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 MC5 to the crunk 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
EPMD,
Lindisfarne,
Nation of Ulysses,
a-ha,
Mars,
Echospace,
Max Romeo,
Brand Nubian,
New Age Steppers,
Suburban Knight,
Erasure,
Sun City Girls,
Sex Pistols,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dennis Brown,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dark Day,
Fear,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
48th St. Collective,
The Monks,
Monolake,
Severed Heads,
Sandy B,
Yaz,
Todd Rundgren,
Banda Bassotti,
Jeru the Damaja,
Television,
Don Cherry,
Arthur Verocai,
Wolf Eyes,
Soulsonic Force,
Duran Duran,
It's A Beautiful Day,
MDC,
PIL,
Dead Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
The Dead C,
Ralphi Rosario,
ABC,
The Move,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scan 7,
Soul Sonic Force,
New York Dolls,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Leaves,
Quadrant,
The Moleskins,
David Bowie,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Warren Ellis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Circle Jerks,
Kas Product,
MC5,
Barrington Levy,
Eric Copeland,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.