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 Marshall Islands and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Seoul and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 mellotron 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 Public Image Ltd. to the rock 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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Gang of Four,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fall,
Dual Sessions,
Pagans,
David Axelrod,
Aloha Tigers,
Letta Mbulu,
Dennis Brown,
The Velvet Underground,
Scrapy,
John Holt,
Malaria!,
Absolute Body Control,
Siglo XX,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Todd Rundgren,
Quando Quango,
Bluetip,
Bad Manners,
Morten Harket,
Thee Headcoats,
Infiniti,
Steve Hackett,
The Moleskins,
Davy DMX,
Nils Olav,
Aural Exciters,
Graham Central Station,
Marine Girls,
The Toasters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
48th St. Collective,
The Cramps,
Outsiders,
Rotary Connection,
The Smiths,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
These Immortal Souls,
Amon Düül II,
Skriet,
Toni Rubio,
Gang Green,
The Divine Comedy,
Brick,
Scott Walker,
Drexciya,
Archie Shepp,
Mandrill,
D'Angelo,
Barbara Tucker,
Mo-Dettes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fortunes,
Niagra,
Shuggie Otis,
Ken Boothe,
Parry Music,
Godley & Creme,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.