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 Andorra and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Madrid.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tom Boy to the rock 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Au Pairs,
Talk Talk,
The Dirtbombs,
Sex Pistols,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Derrick May,
Siglo XX,
Anakelly,
Eve St. Jones,
Inner City,
Goldenarms,
The Doors,
Black Pus,
Joy Division,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Harpers Bizarre,
Monks,
Q65,
The Fall,
Lee Hazlewood,
Thee Headcoats,
Pole,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jandek,
Suicide,
E-Dancer,
The Techniques,
Chris Corsano,
Sun City Girls,
The Young Rascals,
Oblivians,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roger Hodgson,
Toni Rubio,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Remains,
Eli Mardock,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Names,
The J.B.'s,
Juan Atkins,
D'Angelo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Quantec,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crooked Eye,
The Dave Clark Five,
Camberwell Now,
The Detroit Cobras,
EPMD,
Bob Dylan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Minor Threat,
The Trojans,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.