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 Jordan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin 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 Connie Case 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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scientists,
Gil Scott Heron,
Intrusion,
Bauhaus,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Modern Lovers,
Masters at Work,
The Trojans,
Eric Dolphy,
The Mummies,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rosa Yemen,
Crooked Eye,
Duran Duran,
The Birthday Party,
Glenn Branca,
The American Breed,
X-102,
Subhumans,
Sugar Minott,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Donny Hathaway,
Charles Mingus,
Bad Manners,
The Slits,
Crash Course in Science,
Ken Boothe,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Toni Rubio,
Eurythmics,
Ten City,
Oblivians,
Radiopuhelimet,
CMW,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Dead C,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Matthew Bourne,
Faraquet,
Simply Red,
Monks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Robert Görl,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The J.B.'s,
The Wake,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-101,
Quadrant,
Jesper Dahlback,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobby Womack,
Don Cherry,
The Evens,
Newcleus,
The Busters,
Talk Talk,
Whodini,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.