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 Finland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Searchers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Unwound,
The Residents,
The Birthday Party,
Rhythm & Sound,
Warsaw,
DNA,
Rapeman,
Drexciya,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Japan,
the Human League,
The Knickerbockers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Kinks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Techniques,
New Order,
Steve Hackett,
FM Einheit,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Cure,
Judy Mowatt,
Suburban Knight,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joe Finger,
Accadde A,
Skriet,
Radiohead,
Suicide,
Black Pus,
Los Fastidios,
Glenn Branca,
The Moody Blues,
OOIOO,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Model 500,
Aural Exciters,
Isaac Hayes,
Charles Mingus,
Panda Bear,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fluxion,
Franke,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tres Demented,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Slits,
K-Klass,
Bobby Sherman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gang of Four,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ituana,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Last Poets,
June of 44,
Sister Nancy,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.