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 Macedonia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lou Reed 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Ponytail,
The Golliwogs,
New Age Steppers,
Ronan,
Excepter,
Kaleidoscope,
Lakeside,
Nation of Ulysses,
Skaos,
Monolake,
Piero Umiliani,
Roy Ayers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DNA,
Sonic Youth,
Marshall Jefferson,
Drive Like Jehu,
The New Christs,
Lightning Bolt,
Eve St. Jones,
Rosa Yemen,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobby Womack,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Japan,
Arthur Verocai,
Bang On A Can,
John Holt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fire Engines,
Roxette,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Star Department,
Main Source,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The American Breed,
F. McDonald,
Saccharine Trust,
Unrelated Segments,
Fear,
Beasts of Bourbon,
MDC,
Howard Jones,
John Coltrane,
The Mojo Men,
Ituana,
The Busters,
Cameo,
Marc Almond,
Anthony Braxton,
Gang Starr,
ABBA,
Fad Gadget,
the Germs,
Black Pus,
Pantytec,
Danielle Patucci,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.