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 Belgium and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 mellotron 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 Magma to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
the Soft Cell,
The Remains,
Throbbing Gristle,
Loose Ends,
Mantronix,
Gichy Dan,
Albert Ayler,
Bauhaus,
The Cure,
The Durutti Column,
The Human League,
Erasure,
Howard Jones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marmalade,
The Neon Judgement,
Funkadelic,
The Grass Roots,
Index,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Urselle,
Silicon Teens,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Victims,
Swell Maps,
Scientists,
K-Klass,
Youth Brigade,
John Foxx,
The Happenings,
The Moleskins,
Cecil Taylor,
The Black Dice,
Dark Day,
Danielle Patucci,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dave Gahan,
Alice Coltrane,
The Toasters,
Drexciya,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cybotron,
The Blackbyrds,
Kaleidoscope,
Gabor Szabo,
The Martian,
David McCallum,
The Motions,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soul II Soul,
Rekid,
June Days,
John Cale,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Maurizio,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jacob Miller,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scott Walker,
Eurythmics,
Black Flag,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.