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 Nepal and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 John Lydon to the punk 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
The Five Americans,
H. Thieme,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eric B and Rakim,
Davy DMX,
Underground Resistance,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Busters,
Blake Baxter,
Smog,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Gap Band,
Quantec,
Peter and Kerry,
James White and The Blacks,
Roger Hodgson,
Can,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
John Cale,
Cymande,
Darondo,
Japan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Aswad,
Severed Heads,
10cc,
Groovy Waters,
Byron Stingily,
The Birthday Party,
Robert Hood,
Ronnie Foster,
Andrew Hill,
Lakeside,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Duran Duran,
LL Cool J,
June Days,
Agent Orange,
Barclay James Harvest,
OOIOO,
Nik Kershaw,
The Sonics,
The Mojo Men,
Lucky Dragons,
Boredoms,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Harmonia,
X-102,
L. Decosne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Motorama,
ABC,
Camberwell Now,
Jacob Miller,
Procol Harum,
Terrestrial Tones,
Man Parrish,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.