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 Paraguay and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Gun Club to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Bill Near,
Soft Cell,
Black Moon,
Warren Ellis,
Niagra,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bizarre Inc.,
Camouflage,
World's Most,
Marmalade,
Lindisfarne,
The Stooges,
Flipper,
EPMD,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pulsallama,
The Offenders,
The Happenings,
The Electric Prunes,
Tomorrow,
The Kinks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Matthew Bourne,
Arcadia,
Judy Mowatt,
Talk Talk,
Cheater Slicks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Faust,
The Martian,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Josef K,
The Standells,
Agent Orange,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Durutti Column,
Goldenarms,
Symarip,
Glenn Branca,
Jesper Dahlback,
Black Pus,
Radio Birdman,
Derrick May,
Avey Tare,
James White and The Blacks,
Leonard Cohen,
June Days,
Joy Division,
L. Decosne,
Brand Nubian,
Amon Düül,
Sun City Girls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sight & Sound,
Negative Approach,
The American Breed,
Pantytec,
The Divine Comedy,
Average White Band,
Amazonics,
Rapeman,
Thee Headcoats,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.