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 Guinea-Bissau and from New York.
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 Lyon and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Alison Limerick to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Camouflage,
DJ Sneak,
Arthur Verocai,
Fad Gadget,
These Immortal Souls,
Grauzone,
Ice-T,
The Cure,
Nik Kershaw,
The Gories,
Sex Pistols,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rekid,
Eric Copeland,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jeff Mills,
Warren Ellis,
Avey Tare,
the Human League,
Cameo,
Lightning Bolt,
Wasted Youth,
Brick,
Deepchord,
Lou Reed,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Knickerbockers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bill Near,
Max Romeo,
Television,
Clear Light,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Raincoats,
Zero Boys,
Erykah Badu,
Ronnie Foster,
Drexciya,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kas Product,
John Holt,
Con Funk Shun,
Bluetip,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobby Sherman,
Jerry's Kids,
Inner City,
The Tremeloes,
Hoover,
Pagans,
The Slits,
Tubeway Army,
The Invisible,
Mantronix,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Negative Approach,
World's Most,
the Slits,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.