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 Czech Republic and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Man Parrish to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Public Enemy,
Bad Manners,
Electric Prunes,
Masters at Work,
the Bar-Kays,
The Blackbyrds,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deepchord,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Peter and Kerry,
Derrick May,
Loose Ends,
Cameo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Pus,
Blossom Toes,
Swans,
Soft Machine,
Mars,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
L. Decosne,
Frankie Knuckles,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Half Japanese,
Crime,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Cure,
OOIOO,
Leonard Cohen,
DJ Sneak,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Spandau Ballet,
This Heat,
Charles Mingus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hashim,
The Wake,
Jacob Miller,
Ronan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Judy Mowatt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Q65,
Royal Trux,
Black Flag,
The Black Dice,
a-ha,
Shuggie Otis,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Groovy Waters,
The J.B.'s,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dennis Brown,
The Busters,
Todd Terry,
Joensuu 1685,
Josef K,
Kayak,
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.