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 Bhutan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro 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 Black Flag to the funk 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman 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?
Brick,
The Doobie Brothers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Neon Judgement,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lightning Bolt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Angry Samoans,
U.S. Maple,
The Blues Magoos,
The Buckinghams,
Eurythmics,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Chris & Cosey,
Stiv Bators,
Gichy Dan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arcadia,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Franke,
Eddi Front,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rakim,
Moebius,
Lou Reed,
The Seeds,
The Vogues,
Moby Grape,
Girls At Our Best!,
Crispy Ambulance,
The American Breed,
Hashim,
The Black Dice,
Metal Thangz,
John Foxx,
Dave Gahan,
Urselle,
The Grass Roots,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Johnny Clarke,
Thee Headcoats,
Eli Mardock,
Popol Vuh,
The Associates,
Mandrill,
Scientists,
Bobby Byrd,
Warren Ellis,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Womack,
Bobby Sherman,
AZ,
Todd Terry,
JFA,
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Soft Cell,
Intrusion,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.