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 Dominica and from Glasgow.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Marcia Griffiths to the disco 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Mission of Burma,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eddi Front,
Tomorrow,
Maleditus Sound,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Tremeloes,
Erasure,
Von Mondo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Trumans Water,
Sam Rivers,
Bauhaus,
Infiniti,
Sällskapet,
B.T. Express,
John Lydon,
The Slits,
The Gun Club,
The Monks,
The Durutti Column,
Japan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Shoche,
The Music Machine,
the Slits,
Electric Prunes,
The Divine Comedy,
Charles Mingus,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Flag,
Carl Craig,
Roxette,
X-Ray Spex,
Quando Quango,
Gregory Isaacs,
Byron Stingily,
Blancmange,
Bootsy Collins,
Oblivians,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Five Americans,
8 Eyed Spy,
Colin Newman,
Deepchord,
A Certain Ratio,
The Victims,
Ultimate Spinach,
Graham Central Station,
Outsiders,
Mars,
Bob Dylan,
Ohio Players,
Nirvana,
Joyce Sims,
Jeff Lynne,
Au Pairs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.