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 Tonga and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Whodini 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Easy Going,
Roxy Music,
Thompson Twins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Carl Craig,
Ornette Coleman,
Half Japanese,
Lyres,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
T. Rex,
These Immortal Souls,
Trumans Water,
Los Fastidios,
Ultra Naté,
Clear Light,
Funkadelic,
Drexciya,
Outsiders,
Johnny Clarke,
Average White Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Eve St. Jones,
the Human League,
The Fortunes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fatback Band,
Swans,
Aural Exciters,
Bluetip,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pussy Galore,
Lebanon Hanover,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jacques Brel,
Leonard Cohen,
X-101,
Maurizio,
Kerri Chandler,
Infiniti,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Monks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hardrive,
Livin' Joy,
Symarip,
Hot Snakes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dual Sessions,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fuzztones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cymande,
The Doobie Brothers,
Severed Heads,
Mars,
Sun Ra,
Suicide,
Slick Rick,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.