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 Israel and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 808 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 Siglo XX to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Porter Ricks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Alison Limerick,
The Red Krayola,
Whodini,
Arthur Verocai,
Rhythm & Sound,
John Lydon,
Flipper,
Magazine,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang of Four,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Slackers,
R.M.O.,
Wally Richardson,
Joey Negro,
The Victims,
Blake Baxter,
Barry Ungar,
Funky Four + One,
Jeff Mills,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scratch Acid,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marmalade,
The Fall,
Godley & Creme,
Spoonie Gee,
The Kinks,
Theoretical Girls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Isaac Hayes,
Youth Brigade,
Visage,
Eve St. Jones,
Drive Like Jehu,
Freddie Wadling,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
June of 44,
The Evens,
cv313,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jeff Lynne,
Simply Red,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The United States of America,
Slick Rick,
Cecil Taylor,
MDC,
Nick Fraelich,
Deadbeat,
Chrome,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Derrick Morgan,
Tommy Roe,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.