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 Tunisia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Au Pairs 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Dennis Brown record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Yazoo,
Al Stewart,
Ultravox,
Cybotron,
Lyres,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The New Christs,
F. McDonald,
The Real Kids,
DNA,
the Soft Cell,
The Saints,
Television Personalities,
Rotary Connection,
Roxette,
Marvin Gaye,
Absolute Body Control,
Minnie Riperton,
Mary Jane Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
Fela Kuti,
Aural Exciters,
Hoover,
ABC,
Bobby Womack,
Panda Bear,
Darondo,
Bauhaus,
Excepter,
Sixth Finger,
Terrestrial Tones,
Suicide,
The Red Krayola,
Yusef Lateef,
Warsaw,
Funkadelic,
Ituana,
Pylon,
Scott Walker,
OOIOO,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mark Hollis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
kango's stein massive,
Tom Boy,
Buzzcocks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Theoretical Girls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bill Near,
Pantaleimon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Althea and Donna,
Desert Stars,
Radio Birdman,
The Monks,
The Young Rascals,
Boz Scaggs,
Severed Heads,
Rekid,
The American Breed,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.