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 Kazakhstan and from Beijing.
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 Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Red Krayola to the disco 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
a-ha,
The Remains,
Second Layer,
Rites of Spring,
Symarip,
Surgeon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pylon,
Barry Ungar,
Y Pants,
Rhythm & Sound,
DJ Sneak,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pulsallama,
Wolf Eyes,
Adolescents,
Quantec,
The Pretty Things,
Gang of Four,
Pole,
Don Cherry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Yellowson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Danielle Patucci,
Eurythmics,
Mary Jane Girls,
Spoonie Gee,
Sandy B,
Severed Heads,
Rufus Thomas,
Infiniti,
Massinfluence,
Television Personalities,
Letta Mbulu,
Von Mondo,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Smoke,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Boredoms,
Kevin Saunderson,
Deakin,
The Tremeloes,
Neu!,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wire,
Make Up,
Max Romeo,
Black Pus,
Hasil Adkins,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Silicon Teens,
The Misunderstood,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nation of Ulysses,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.