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 Burkina and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Misunderstood,
The Litter,
Agent Orange,
Cal Tjader,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ten City,
The Walker Brothers,
Sugar Minott,
Camberwell Now,
The Trojans,
Flash Fearless,
John Cale,
Rekid,
Junior Murvin,
Tears for Fears,
Isaac Hayes,
Kenny Larkin,
Harry Pussy,
Archie Shepp,
The Star Department,
Echospace,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Zapp,
The Evens,
Groovy Waters,
The Standells,
Royal Trux,
Von Mondo,
Nik Kershaw,
Sister Nancy,
Soul II Soul,
the Human League,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Divine Comedy,
The Move,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fatback Band,
Infiniti,
Crooked Eye,
Lower 48,
Jerry's Kids,
Minny Pops,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
H. Thieme,
Peter and Kerry,
The Blackbyrds,
Lalann,
Clear Light,
Procol Harum,
The Smoke,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Country Teasers,
Surgeon,
Sparks,
Joe Finger,
Interpol,
Lungfish,
MDC,
Bluetip,
Kayak,
Basic Channel,
T.S.O.L.,
ABBA,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.