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 Russia and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the techno 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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Rites of Spring,
Pere Ubu,
Sugar Minott,
Altered Images,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bush Tetras,
Sparks,
DJ Sneak,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Camberwell Now,
Gang of Four,
The Pop Group,
Crooked Eye,
Andrew Hill,
World's Most,
Sandy B,
Pole,
The Happenings,
John Foxx,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pagans,
Q65,
10cc,
Marc Almond,
Fugazi,
Idris Muhammad,
The Slits,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dark Day,
Tomorrow,
The Dead C,
Grauzone,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eric Dolphy,
Excepter,
Oblivians,
Bobby Sherman,
Minor Threat,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Trojans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Neon Judgement,
The Angels of Light,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chris & Cosey,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tubeway Army,
Television,
Hot Snakes,
Wolf Eyes,
The Raincoats,
The Move,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Electric Prunes,
Robert Wyatt,
Lightning Bolt,
Wire,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.