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 Nepal and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Throbbing Gristle to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
T. Rex,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Buckinghams,
Robert Görl,
Brand Nubian,
Amon Düül II,
PIL,
Maurizio,
Gong,
Nico,
Gang Gang Dance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Livin' Joy,
Ornette Coleman,
The Moleskins,
Rotary Connection,
The Barracudas,
Mandrill,
Nick Fraelich,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sällskapet,
Ronnie Foster,
Godley & Creme,
Goldenarms,
One Last Wish,
Darondo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Michelle Simonal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soul II Soul,
La Düsseldorf,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Avey Tare,
The J.B.'s,
Roxette,
Lakeside,
Sun Ra,
Infiniti,
Soft Machine,
Sarah Menescal,
Letta Mbulu,
Ohio Players,
Barrington Levy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mary Jane Girls,
Easy Going,
Maleditus Sound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Howard Jones,
Amon Düül,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
ABC,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lower 48,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Joyce Sims,
Young Marble Giants,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Techniques,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.