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 Albania and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Crime to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Anakelly,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Toasters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Erasure,
Althea and Donna,
Jacob Miller,
Sällskapet,
The Blackbyrds,
Arthur Verocai,
Leonard Cohen,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Barrington Levy,
Lungfish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sandy B,
Agent Orange,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Detroit Cobras,
Youth Brigade,
Sugar Minott,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
DNA,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Alice Coltrane,
Joyce Sims,
Brothers Johnson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Juan Atkins,
Robert Görl,
The Velvet Underground,
Lindisfarne,
Kerri Chandler,
The Human League,
Roxette,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kenny Larkin,
Roger Hodgson,
Young Marble Giants,
Thee Headcoats,
the Slits,
Pussy Galore,
The Fuzztones,
Max Romeo,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Barry Ungar,
Scion,
Matthew Halsall,
the Sonics,
Desert Stars,
Colin Newman,
John Coltrane,
Arab on Radar,
Trumans Water,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Archie Shepp,
Brass Construction,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Holt,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.