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 Ireland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Eric Copeland to the techno 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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
The Barracudas,
Matthew Bourne,
Thompson Twins,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Japan,
Robert Görl,
Tomorrow,
David Bowie,
Bobby Sherman,
The Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
R.M.O.,
Steve Hackett,
Yaz,
Lungfish,
Ronnie Foster,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jawbox,
KRS-One,
Al Stewart,
Buzzcocks,
X-Ray Spex,
Angry Samoans,
The Last Poets,
Hot Snakes,
Scott Walker,
Michelle Simonal,
Moby Grape,
X-101,
K-Klass,
Main Source,
Mr. Review,
Alton Ellis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Funky Four + One,
Soft Machine,
Sugar Minott,
The Litter,
Bill Near,
Tears for Fears,
Altered Images,
Minutemen,
Roger Hodgson,
Shuggie Otis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tom Boy,
Deepchord,
Icehouse,
Siglo XX,
The Knickerbockers,
Outsiders,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Mo-Dettes,
Procol Harum,
The Cramps,
Gang Green,
T.S.O.L.,
Simply Red,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.