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 Albania and from Halifax.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 mellotron 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 Pantytec to the grunge 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Harry Pussy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cheater Slicks,
The Tremeloes,
Delon & Dalcan,
New York Dolls,
Mr. Review,
the Swans,
Peter and Kerry,
Smog,
Danielle Patucci,
Silicon Teens,
Lyres,
the Slits,
Iggy Pop,
Ultimate Spinach,
Zapp,
Country Teasers,
Sight & Sound,
Derrick May,
ABBA,
Marcia Griffiths,
Popol Vuh,
The Buckinghams,
Peter & Gordon,
Thompson Twins,
Panda Bear,
Alison Limerick,
Cybotron,
Boredoms,
Blossom Toes,
Donald Byrd,
Pagans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Das Ding,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
The Smiths,
Scion,
The Music Machine,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gap Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rosa Yemen,
Lucky Dragons,
Gastr Del Sol,
Organ,
Talk Talk,
Don Cherry,
Nirvana,
Piero Umiliani,
Hoover,
Junior Murvin,
Ronnie Foster,
Soft Machine,
FM Einheit,
E-Dancer,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Juan Atkins,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.