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 Eritrea and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Stereo Dub,
Adolescents,
The Fuzztones,
Model 500,
Patti Smith,
The Dead C,
Kayak,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
LL Cool J,
Mission of Burma,
Newcleus,
Royal Trux,
The Zeros,
Pere Ubu,
PIL,
Sarah Menescal,
Wolf Eyes,
Max Romeo,
Qualms,
Fugazi,
Ponytail,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gang of Four,
Mars,
Joyce Sims,
Gastr Del Sol,
Robert Görl,
Wire,
Lebanon Hanover,
Maurizio,
The Saints,
Infiniti,
Eric Dolphy,
the Bar-Kays,
Icehouse,
Sound Behaviour,
Maleditus Sound,
The Young Rascals,
Unwound,
Spoonie Gee,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cameo,
Outsiders,
Sexual Harrassment,
Danielle Patucci,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Holt,
Rotary Connection,
Flamin' Groovies,
Camouflage,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Letta Mbulu,
Vainqueur,
Sonic Youth,
Alison Limerick,
Kenny Larkin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
La Düsseldorf,
Kerri Chandler,
The Mojo Men,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.