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 Estonia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Donald Fagen 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the electroclash 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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Howard Jones,
Liliput,
Ronan,
Bauhaus,
Rhythm & Sound,
Warsaw,
Pantaleimon,
Newcleus,
Tim Buckley,
Skaos,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Smiths,
Joey Negro,
Scientists,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Thee Headcoats,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Throbbing Gristle,
Camberwell Now,
Ten City,
Pere Ubu,
Bluetip,
Crooked Eye,
Bush Tetras,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Main Source,
Pussy Galore,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Selecter,
Ultravox,
Grauzone,
The Martian,
Cal Tjader,
The Moleskins,
the Soft Cell,
a-ha,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
H. Thieme,
Motorama,
Flash Fearless,
Jeff Mills,
Jeru the Damaja,
Al Stewart,
Susan Cadogan,
Unrelated Segments,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Trojans,
Lower 48,
The Busters,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang of Four,
Barry Ungar,
Byron Stingily,
Avey Tare,
Hoover,
The Seeds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.