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 Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe 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 Chrome to the funk 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Black Moon,
Robert Hood,
E-Dancer,
H. Thieme,
The Gladiators,
The Blackbyrds,
The Stooges,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Angry Samoans,
Rekid,
Scrapy,
the Association,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Monks,
Severed Heads,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Radio Birdman,
Roxy Music,
Skarface,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
John Lydon,
Porter Ricks,
Organ,
Eric B and Rakim,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lakeside,
Q and Not U,
Prince Buster,
Yellowson,
The Pretty Things,
The Velvet Underground,
Donald Byrd,
Peter and Kerry,
Magma,
The Happenings,
Joy Division,
Jimmy McGriff,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Litter,
Little Man,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Toni Rubio,
Throbbing Gristle,
DJ Sneak,
Mandrill,
Todd Terry,
The Dirtbombs,
Scion,
Stiv Bators,
Nils Olav,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ice-T,
The Blues Magoos,
Dead Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
Babytalk,
Tim Buckley,
Buzzcocks,
Swans,
Heaven 17,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.