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 Lesotho and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Fortunes to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Young Marble Giants,
Symarip,
Panda Bear,
Urselle,
The Tremeloes,
Inner City,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Womack,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deepchord,
Radiohead,
Barry Ungar,
FM Einheit,
Simply Red,
Susan Cadogan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Archie Shepp,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Index,
David Bowie,
Barbara Tucker,
Essential Logic,
Rakim,
The Grass Roots,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Real Kids,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ten City,
Toni Rubio,
Los Fastidios,
Ice-T,
The Doors,
Girls At Our Best!,
John Coltrane,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lightning Bolt,
The Barracudas,
Sixth Finger,
Adolescents,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Von Mondo,
Ohio Players,
Dave Gahan,
Mars,
Judy Mowatt,
Nas,
Intrusion,
Sight & Sound,
the Slits,
Erykah Badu,
Loose Ends,
Silicon Teens,
Sexual Harrassment,
Peter and Kerry,
Tom Boy,
Sonic Youth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Heaven 17,
Altered Images,
Tres Demented,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.