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 Mauritania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Excepter to the electroclash 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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
The Human League,
Rites of Spring,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Black Dice,
The Mummies,
the Bar-Kays,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Moon,
KRS-One,
Bauhaus,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Litter,
Sight & Sound,
Country Teasers,
Cheater Slicks,
Radiohead,
Davy DMX,
Essential Logic,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Main Source,
Banda Bassotti,
The Electric Prunes,
UT,
Dual Sessions,
Curtis Mayfield,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Dead C,
Joe Finger,
Audionom,
Lightning Bolt,
Harry Pussy,
Patti Smith,
Don Cherry,
Hashim,
Arab on Radar,
Nirvana,
Althea and Donna,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jawbox,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Grey Daturas,
DJ Style,
The Detroit Cobras,
Unrelated Segments,
Pylon,
Parry Music,
The Gladiators,
Whodini,
Visage,
Bill Near,
Crispy Ambulance,
Suicide,
Rod Modell,
Isaac Hayes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.