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 Greece and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin 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 Marshall Jefferson to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
La Düsseldorf,
Kurtis Blow,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Public Enemy,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
Wasted Youth,
Niagra,
the Germs,
The Fugs,
the Soft Cell,
Jawbox,
Easy Going,
The Litter,
Lyres,
Fugazi,
Barbara Tucker,
Saccharine Trust,
Average White Band,
Matthew Halsall,
H. Thieme,
Cheater Slicks,
John Foxx,
The Human League,
Swans,
Joensuu 1685,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Sheep,
Tubeway Army,
cv313,
Wally Richardson,
The Sonics,
the Human League,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gregory Isaacs,
Hasil Adkins,
Vainqueur,
Kas Product,
In Retrospect,
Unwound,
Von Mondo,
Fluxion,
Grauzone,
Mo-Dettes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The J.B.'s,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Janne Schatter,
Los Fastidios,
The Dirtbombs,
Amazonics,
The Martian,
Harry Pussy,
Magazine,
Angry Samoans,
Aaron Thompson,
Altered Images,
the Sonics,
The Saints,
A Certain Ratio,
The Electric Prunes,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.