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 Turkmenistan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Tom Verlaine 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 This Heat to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dark Day,
Flipper,
Pylon,
Joe Finger,
The Techniques,
Bluetip,
Mark Hollis,
Audionom,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Slave,
Sexual Harrassment,
Intrusion,
Pere Ubu,
Lucky Dragons,
Freddie Wadling,
Barrington Levy,
Grauzone,
Electric Prunes,
Bill Near,
Malaria!,
The Slits,
The Residents,
Amon Düül II,
Quando Quango,
Jerry's Kids,
Half Japanese,
Cal Tjader,
Youth Brigade,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Count Five,
Chrome,
Mary Jane Girls,
Monks,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fire Engines,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeff Lynne,
Can,
Marc Almond,
Peter and Kerry,
Marshall Jefferson,
CMW,
Byron Stingily,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The American Breed,
Outsiders,
Fela Kuti,
Carl Craig,
Sound Behaviour,
Camouflage,
Absolute Body Control,
Guru Guru,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cybotron,
David Axelrod,
Q and Not U,
Porter Ricks,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.