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 San Marino and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grime 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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wally Richardson,
Dead Boys,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Man Parrish,
Pylon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Sheep,
The Young Rascals,
PIL,
Yaz,
Ossler,
The Divine Comedy,
Pantaleimon,
Harry Pussy,
The Gladiators,
World's Most,
U.S. Maple,
Dave Gahan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Moon,
Faraquet,
Tubeway Army,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Television,
Infiniti,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Little Man,
Absolute Body Control,
The J.B.'s,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scan 7,
T.S.O.L.,
Godley & Creme,
The Neon Judgement,
Jerry's Kids,
Lou Reed,
the Human League,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cowsills,
Siglo XX,
Tres Demented,
Eric B and Rakim,
Steve Hackett,
L. Decosne,
Gabor Szabo,
Rosa Yemen,
Qualms,
Minor Threat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Grey Daturas,
Average White Band,
Guru Guru,
Los Fastidios,
Minny Pops,
Glenn Branca,
This Heat,
Sällskapet,
Erasure,
Ultimate Spinach,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.