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 Tajikistan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eli Mardock to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Invisible,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Organ,
Dennis Brown,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nirvana,
Interpol,
Livin' Joy,
F. McDonald,
Susan Cadogan,
Agent Orange,
the Association,
Toni Rubio,
Bluetip,
Camberwell Now,
Jacob Miller,
The Gun Club,
Iggy Pop,
Y Pants,
The Associates,
Slick Rick,
Black Sheep,
Average White Band,
Tommy Roe,
Massinfluence,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Underground Resistance,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nation of Ulysses,
Severed Heads,
Dual Sessions,
Whodini,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cameo,
Lalann,
Matthew Halsall,
Boz Scaggs,
Bang On A Can,
Altered Images,
Black Flag,
Flamin' Groovies,
Motorama,
48th St. Collective,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Leaves,
Janne Schatter,
Moby Grape,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
EPMD,
Barclay James Harvest,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eden Ahbez,
Yazoo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cymande,
The New Christs,
Thee Headcoats,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.