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 Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pharoah Sanders to the rock 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cowsills,
Simply Red,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slick Rick,
Jimmy McGriff,
Interpol,
Livin' Joy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
June Days,
Pulsallama,
Black Bananas,
The Move,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Iggy Pop,
Mars,
Minny Pops,
Erasure,
The Raincoats,
Maurizio,
Glenn Branca,
Zapp,
Section 25,
Marvin Gaye,
Franke,
Yazoo,
Delta 5,
the Soft Cell,
Essential Logic,
Basic Channel,
Soul II Soul,
Marc Almond,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Divine Comedy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Blues Magoos,
David Axelrod,
Eric Copeland,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Isaac Hayes,
Absolute Body Control,
Minor Threat,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rufus Thomas,
Surgeon,
Intrusion,
Fort Wilson Riot,
AZ,
Scientists,
Make Up,
The Kinks,
The Gap Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang Green,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.