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 Cape Verde and from London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Au Pairs to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
a-ha,
H. Thieme,
Masters at Work,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rosa Yemen,
Fad Gadget,
Urselle,
Blancmange,
Ronan,
the Normal,
Soft Machine,
Panda Bear,
Make Up,
Main Source,
The Count Five,
John Lydon,
The American Breed,
The Wake,
Toni Rubio,
The Invisible,
Maurizio,
Scrapy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Newcleus,
Schoolly D,
The Sonics,
Arcadia,
the Germs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kenny Larkin,
Neu!,
Oblivians,
The Move,
Amon Düül,
Mantronix,
Chris Corsano,
Graham Central Station,
Sällskapet,
L. Decosne,
The Electric Prunes,
Susan Cadogan,
Malaria!,
Lindisfarne,
Sparks,
Sam Rivers,
Section 25,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mission of Burma,
Nik Kershaw,
Dave Gahan,
Peter and Kerry,
Loose Ends,
The Detroit Cobras,
K-Klass,
Blossom Toes,
Fluxion,
Das Ding,
The Birthday Party,
The Evens,
The Blackbyrds,
Scion,
John Holt,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.