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 Macedonia and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Sex Pistols to the rock 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Main Source,
The Tremeloes,
Fat Boys,
E-Dancer,
Cameo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Altered Images,
Matthew Bourne,
Con Funk Shun,
Nik Kershaw,
Derrick Morgan,
Lou Christie,
Kaleidoscope,
Silicon Teens,
Lyres,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Television Personalities,
Easy Going,
Clear Light,
Schoolly D,
K-Klass,
Hashim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cheater Slicks,
Joe Smooth,
Dawn Penn,
B.T. Express,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Groovy Waters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Echospace,
Mantronix,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rites of Spring,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tomorrow,
Bluetip,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Steve Hackett,
Reagan Youth,
The Cramps,
Visage,
The Victims,
Ohio Players,
Al Stewart,
The Names,
Kerri Chandler,
Barry Ungar,
Mandrill,
Mo-Dettes,
Joey Negro,
Gerry Rafferty,
Iggy Pop,
Maleditus Sound,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.