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 Monaco and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Outsiders to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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 Mighty Diamonds,
Simply Red,
Pylon,
Crash Course in Science,
Jeru the Damaja,
Suburban Knight,
the Swans,
Oblivians,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lightning Bolt,
Patti Smith,
Crime,
Robert Görl,
John Holt,
The New Christs,
Peter & Gordon,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Moody Blues,
The Fall,
The Cramps,
Rapeman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jacques Brel,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Aaron Thompson,
The Move,
The Barracudas,
The Pretty Things,
Livin' Joy,
Sandy B,
Nick Fraelich,
James White and The Blacks,
Amon Düül II,
Max Romeo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Camouflage,
Fela Kuti,
Talk Talk,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mark Hollis,
Kas Product,
Eden Ahbez,
Wolf Eyes,
ABC,
Tom Boy,
The Angels of Light,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Traffic Nightmare,
In Retrospect,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Circle Jerks,
Heaven 17,
Crooked Eye,
Ken Boothe,
Mars,
Tomorrow,
A Certain Ratio,
Guru Guru,
Masters at Work,
JFA,
The Durutti Column,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.