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 Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Crash Course in Science to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T.S.O.L.,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ten City,
Ultravox,
Darondo,
Funkadelic,
Thee Headcoats,
The Beau Brummels,
Swans,
Stetsasonic,
Franke,
The Searchers,
Monks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Gun Club,
Icehouse,
The Monochrome Set,
The Detroit Cobras,
Talk Talk,
Electric Prunes,
Circle Jerks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Last Poets,
Wasted Youth,
Jeff Lynne,
Young Marble Giants,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marine Girls,
Arthur Verocai,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q and Not U,
Monolake,
Minutemen,
Joe Smooth,
The Black Dice,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rhythm & Sound,
Interpol,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oneida,
Barry Ungar,
The Victims,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
JFA,
Barrington Levy,
L. Decosne,
Qualms,
The Motions,
Kaleidoscope,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deadbeat,
Scan 7,
The Standells,
R.M.O.,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.