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 Maldives and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ohio Players to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Public Enemy,
Depeche Mode,
Altered Images,
Avey Tare,
The Music Machine,
The Litter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
PIL,
Minny Pops,
Carl Craig,
The Cramps,
Unwound,
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott Heron,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sällskapet,
Oblivians,
Gerry Rafferty,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Sherman,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Banda Bassotti,
Second Layer,
Boredoms,
Camouflage,
Crispian St. Peters,
Parry Music,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sun City Girls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wire,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The American Breed,
Juan Atkins,
the Slits,
Country Teasers,
The Slits,
Spoonie Gee,
The Doors,
Babytalk,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pere Ubu,
UT,
Moby Grape,
The Evens,
Qualms,
Funkadelic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Star Department,
Brick,
Monks,
Barrington Levy,
T.S.O.L.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stiv Bators,
The Cowsills,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Thompson Twins,
Pierre Henry,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.