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 Congo and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Max Romeo to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
The Dave Clark Five,
Parry Music,
Fear,
Sam Rivers,
The Martian,
Das Ding,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Theoretical Girls,
Essential Logic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Erasure,
Tomorrow,
Gil Scott Heron,
Magazine,
Leonard Cohen,
Vladislav Delay,
Kayak,
The Star Department,
Lalann,
Bang On A Can,
Wally Richardson,
New Order,
Groovy Waters,
Nick Fraelich,
Livin' Joy,
OOIOO,
Ronnie Foster,
Television,
Lindisfarne,
The Doors,
The Count Five,
48th St. Collective,
Mark Hollis,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fuzztones,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eurythmics,
Robert Wyatt,
The Monochrome Set,
Surgeon,
Adolescents,
Connie Case,
The Techniques,
Unwound,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sugar Minott,
Pagans,
Easy Going,
Glenn Branca,
These Immortal Souls,
MDC,
Minutemen,
Index,
R.M.O.,
John Lydon,
Audionom,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.