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 Georgia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe 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 X-102 to the dance 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Fear,
Byron Stingily,
The Happenings,
June Days,
Alphaville,
Organ,
Leonard Cohen,
Babytalk,
Judy Mowatt,
Matthew Bourne,
Blancmange,
Chris & Cosey,
Tubeway Army,
The Victims,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sister Nancy,
Dead Boys,
Bill Wells,
The Zeros,
Fat Boys,
Black Flag,
Sam Rivers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Quadrant,
Graham Central Station,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Techniques,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pere Ubu,
Unrelated Segments,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Beau Brummels,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mummies,
Guru Guru,
Roy Ayers,
The Offenders,
Mandrill,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Wake,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Althea and Donna,
Andrew Hill,
The Monochrome Set,
Arab on Radar,
Sonic Youth,
Von Mondo,
Lyres,
The Moleskins,
X-Ray Spex,
Gong,
Joyce Sims,
Youth Brigade,
Black Bananas,
Interpol,
H. Thieme,
Panda Bear,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Pretty Things,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.