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 Pakistan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 guitar 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 Jawbox to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Henry Cow,
Connie Case,
The Move,
The Litter,
Desert Stars,
Pylon,
Ossler,
New York Dolls,
The Angels of Light,
Bill Wells,
June Days,
The Standells,
Flash Fearless,
Camberwell Now,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Techniques,
Roger Hodgson,
Avey Tare,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Spoonie Gee,
Sam Rivers,
Radio Birdman,
The Gories,
Alphaville,
Wire,
The Remains,
The Count Five,
The Fire Engines,
Sugar Minott,
Pagans,
The Monks,
Lungfish,
The Slits,
Tim Buckley,
These Immortal Souls,
Jerry's Kids,
The Index,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Stereo Dub,
Yazoo,
Kaleidoscope,
Severed Heads,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Moebius,
Dead Boys,
Ituana,
John Cale,
Todd Terry,
Rotary Connection,
Ronan,
Goldenarms,
Bob Dylan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Grass Roots,
Warsaw,
The Red Krayola,
Harmonia,
Deepchord,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.