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 Iceland and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Y Pants to the grunge 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Franke,
Bob Dylan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mission of Burma,
Marmalade,
Lebanon Hanover,
kango's stein massive,
The Doobie Brothers,
Talk Talk,
The Cure,
Sam Rivers,
Adolescents,
Drive Like Jehu,
Blancmange,
MC5,
Josef K,
Blossom Toes,
The Pop Group,
Bill Wells,
Heaven 17,
Traffic Nightmare,
Brand Nubian,
Con Funk Shun,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fortunes,
ABC,
Tomorrow,
Kaleidoscope,
Theoretical Girls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rapeman,
The Invisible,
The Offenders,
Minor Threat,
Oblivians,
Basic Channel,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Coltrane,
Tropical Tobacco,
U.S. Maple,
Tommy Roe,
R.M.O.,
Darondo,
Wings,
Kerri Chandler,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
June of 44,
Kenny Larkin,
Symarip,
The Human League,
Iggy Pop,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Walker Brothers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Monochrome Set,
Eric Dolphy,
Swans,
The Fugs,
Cal Tjader,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.