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 Antigua and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gregory Isaacs to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
The Detroit Cobras,
Robert Hood,
Gang of Four,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Desert Stars,
Siglo XX,
Camberwell Now,
the Sonics,
Bronski Beat,
John Coltrane,
Yusef Lateef,
The Leaves,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Pus,
Radiohead,
Fela Kuti,
Vainqueur,
The Offenders,
Gabor Szabo,
The Red Krayola,
Mary Jane Girls,
Max Romeo,
the Slits,
Delta 5,
Pantytec,
Bobby Sherman,
Cameo,
Harry Pussy,
X-Ray Spex,
The Skatalites,
June Days,
Index,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roy Ayers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ronan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Connie Case,
Toni Rubio,
Eric Dolphy,
The Gap Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Laurel Aitken,
Rapeman,
Trumans Water,
Mark Hollis,
Visage,
Whodini,
Cybotron,
Young Marble Giants,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pharoah Sanders,
The J.B.'s,
Ultravox,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.