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 Mozambique and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 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 The Young Rascals to the dance 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Busters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mr. Review,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Seeds,
Ice-T,
Tim Buckley,
Jacob Miller,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
LL Cool J,
David Axelrod,
Hot Snakes,
Skriet,
Soft Machine,
Funkadelic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cybotron,
Wally Richardson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Zero Boys,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Blues Magoos,
The Alarm Clocks,
Saccharine Trust,
Bootsy Collins,
Joensuu 1685,
Crime,
The Toasters,
The Fall,
New Order,
Mark Hollis,
Glenn Branca,
Lucky Dragons,
Scion,
Eric Copeland,
The Pop Group,
David McCallum,
Youth Brigade,
Harmonia,
Traffic Nightmare,
Agent Orange,
Joe Smooth,
Crash Course in Science,
Man Parrish,
Con Funk Shun,
Trumans Water,
Dead Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
Funky Four + One,
The Stooges,
Gabor Szabo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Qualms,
Eli Mardock,
ABC,
Mars,
Q and Not U,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.