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 Brunei and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer 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 Juan Atkins to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Ituana,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marc Almond,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Erasure,
Desert Stars,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Swans,
Danielle Patucci,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Vladislav Delay,
Aswad,
Kurtis Blow,
The Invisible,
Lower 48,
Skriet,
Joe Smooth,
The Dave Clark Five,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Golliwogs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Brass Construction,
Black Moon,
Sun Ra,
Alphaville,
the Soft Cell,
Duran Duran,
Glenn Branca,
Suburban Knight,
Roy Ayers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wasted Youth,
Dead Boys,
The Gories,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Das Ding,
Blake Baxter,
Barry Ungar,
The J.B.'s,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Surgeon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Alice Coltrane,
Lebanon Hanover,
ABBA,
The Velvet Underground,
Panda Bear,
Soul II Soul,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Television,
Fear,
The New Christs,
China Crisis,
Rhythm & Sound,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.