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 Tajikistan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Paris.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Fatback Band to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Rites of Spring,
Bauhaus,
Byron Stingily,
The Toasters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hoover,
Little Man,
the Human League,
The Associates,
Delta 5,
Visage,
Bad Manners,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Absolute Body Control,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Fugs,
Porter Ricks,
Agent Orange,
the Association,
Circle Jerks,
Half Japanese,
Mr. Review,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang of Four,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Flash Fearless,
Joe Smooth,
Cal Tjader,
the Sonics,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Severed Heads,
Sandy B,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Gap Band,
Camouflage,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Max Romeo,
Crispian St. Peters,
48th St. Collective,
Goldenarms,
the Germs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marc Almond,
Kayak,
Royal Trux,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fear,
New York Dolls,
Bob Dylan,
The Searchers,
Minnie Riperton,
Ultra Naté,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dead Boys,
FM Einheit,
The Victims,
Joensuu 1685,
Metal Thangz,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.