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 Austria and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 Toronto and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro 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 Das Ding to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeff Lynne,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sun City Girls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Interpol,
Thompson Twins,
The Fire Engines,
The Cowsills,
Flipper,
Subhumans,
8 Eyed Spy,
Suburban Knight,
PIL,
Sugar Minott,
Skriet,
Judy Mowatt,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Black Dice,
cv313,
Eddi Front,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dark Day,
Blake Baxter,
Porter Ricks,
Average White Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Eurythmics,
Bizarre Inc.,
H. Thieme,
The Young Rascals,
Marmalade,
Monolake,
UT,
Brothers Johnson,
The Gun Club,
Dead Boys,
10cc,
Man Parrish,
Dave Gahan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Model 500,
Eric Dolphy,
Danielle Patucci,
Black Bananas,
Cheater Slicks,
Inner City,
Bush Tetras,
Visage,
The Smiths,
Carl Craig,
The New Christs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sandy B,
Theoretical Girls,
Camouflage,
June Days,
Moebius,
Althea and Donna,
Tres Demented,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.