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 Australia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 David Bowie 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 Moody Blues 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Alphaville,
Amazonics,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Five Americans,
Archie Shepp,
Lyres,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Anakelly,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Davy DMX,
Dave Gahan,
Eli Mardock,
Quantec,
JFA,
X-102,
Eve St. Jones,
Camberwell Now,
Barclay James Harvest,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Vainqueur,
John Coltrane,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Popol Vuh,
The Slackers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hasil Adkins,
Stetsasonic,
John Cale,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lalann,
The Blues Magoos,
The Dead C,
The Monochrome Set,
Interpol,
Flash Fearless,
Nation of Ulysses,
T.S.O.L.,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joyce Sims,
Sixth Finger,
Tommy Roe,
Malaria!,
Desert Stars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Liliput,
Duran Duran,
The Searchers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gichy Dan,
Clear Light,
The New Christs,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Red Krayola,
Crime,
Dead Boys,
The Fall,
Peter & Gordon,
Letta Mbulu,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.