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 Nicaragua and from Salvador.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Victims to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Kinks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mandrill,
The J.B.'s,
T.S.O.L.,
Glenn Branca,
The Human League,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kerrie Biddell,
Colin Newman,
Graham Central Station,
Man Eating Sloth,
Second Layer,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Zapp,
Fad Gadget,
Camberwell Now,
Absolute Body Control,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun City Girls,
Black Bananas,
The Buckinghams,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Inner City,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roxy Music,
The Electric Prunes,
John Cale,
Bob Dylan,
Aural Exciters,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Reuben Wilson,
Robert Wyatt,
Tim Buckley,
Cybotron,
Slick Rick,
Skriet,
Sight & Sound,
Tres Demented,
Lungfish,
Skarface,
The Fire Engines,
The Sound,
Marine Girls,
Robert Hood,
The Leaves,
Ituana,
Subhumans,
Symarip,
Hoover,
Make Up,
Los Fastidios,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Arcadia,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Theoretical Girls,
Crime,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.