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 Haiti and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Misunderstood to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Avey Tare,
FM Einheit,
The Searchers,
Public Enemy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Monolake,
Skaos,
Bobby Byrd,
the Human League,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bush Tetras,
AZ,
Accadde A,
Q and Not U,
John Foxx,
Donny Hathaway,
Lyres,
Mandrill,
Glenn Branca,
Eli Mardock,
Mo-Dettes,
June of 44,
Cluster,
The Doors,
Aaron Thompson,
Pantytec,
Intrusion,
Electric Light Orchestra,
OOIOO,
Porter Ricks,
Maleditus Sound,
Dennis Brown,
Ken Boothe,
Adolescents,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sparks,
Leonard Cohen,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nas,
Letta Mbulu,
Bluetip,
Second Layer,
Sight & Sound,
The Barracudas,
Angry Samoans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Basic Channel,
Newcleus,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Susan Cadogan,
Roxette,
Big Daddy Kane,
Alison Limerick,
Ralphi Rosario,
Al Stewart,
Nirvana,
The Zeros,
Jawbox,
Crispian St. Peters,
Icehouse,
The Moleskins,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.