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 Kuwait and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Don Cherry to the grunge 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Moleskins,
T. Rex,
Suicide,
The Tremeloes,
The Wake,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobby Sherman,
Eric Copeland,
Aaron Thompson,
Sugar Minott,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tears for Fears,
X-Ray Spex,
Liliput,
H. Thieme,
Masters at Work,
Deakin,
Mission of Burma,
U.S. Maple,
The American Breed,
The Cowsills,
Joe Smooth,
Mr. Review,
Moebius,
Visage,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Los Fastidios,
Jeff Mills,
Underground Resistance,
Infiniti,
Kurtis Blow,
The Pop Group,
Dark Day,
T.S.O.L.,
Thompson Twins,
Eurythmics,
Mark Hollis,
Inner City,
Kayak,
MDC,
The Cramps,
The Sonics,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Blues Magoos,
48th St. Collective,
Curtis Mayfield,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Skriet,
Spandau Ballet,
The New Christs,
Cluster,
Harry Pussy,
Scratch Acid,
New York Dolls,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wally Richardson,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.