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 Lebanon and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Warren Ellis to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Mr. Review,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
June Days,
Rod Modell,
Bronski Beat,
Section 25,
Andrew Hill,
Thompson Twins,
The Cowsills,
Lightning Bolt,
Bush Tetras,
Marmalade,
Freddie Wadling,
Maurizio,
Sparks,
Iggy Pop,
Unwound,
Donny Hathaway,
Theoretical Girls,
EPMD,
Michelle Simonal,
Fela Kuti,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marc Almond,
Ludus,
Grauzone,
Sister Nancy,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeff Lynne,
Popol Vuh,
Donald Byrd,
Kevin Saunderson,
Blancmange,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Terry Callier,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Carl Craig,
Neu!,
Jerry Gold Smith,
48th St. Collective,
Nation of Ulysses,
Soulsonic Force,
Minnie Riperton,
The Divine Comedy,
Bootsy Collins,
Ten City,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Moody Blues,
Buzzcocks,
Mo-Dettes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Moleskins,
The Move,
Dave Gahan,
Moebius,
The Standells,
Panda Bear,
Quadrant,
Bill Near,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.