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 Papua New Guinea and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 T.S.O.L. to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Q and Not U,
The Buckinghams,
Groovy Waters,
Ultravox,
Suicide,
H. Thieme,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Warsaw,
the Sonics,
Johnny Osbourne,
Colin Newman,
Negative Approach,
Can,
The Monks,
One Last Wish,
Tubeway Army,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Beau Brummels,
the Slits,
U.S. Maple,
Crooked Eye,
Khruangbin,
The Gap Band,
The Residents,
Drexciya,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Agitation Free,
Infiniti,
Easy Going,
The Human League,
Desert Stars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Janne Schatter,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sister Nancy,
Sparks,
Aural Exciters,
Von Mondo,
Sixth Finger,
Lindisfarne,
F. McDonald,
Pulsallama,
Scion,
The Birthday Party,
Sam Rivers,
Simply Red,
Trumans Water,
The Fugs,
Quando Quango,
The Offenders,
B.T. Express,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Seeds,
Niagra,
Alphaville,
Marvin Gaye,
The Grass Roots,
The Standells,
New York Dolls,
Adolescents,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.