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 Dominica and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 Porter Ricks to the funk 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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Radio Birdman,
Bauhaus,
Pagans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Index,
Pantytec,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
KRS-One,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Metal Thangz,
Fear,
Crooked Eye,
Drive Like Jehu,
Faust,
Morten Harket,
Black Bananas,
Qualms,
Ultravox,
Reuben Wilson,
Young Marble Giants,
Big Daddy Kane,
Traffic Nightmare,
ABC,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Curtis Mayfield,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Yazoo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Vladislav Delay,
Inner City,
Stiv Bators,
Amon Düül,
Sun Ra,
Roxy Music,
LL Cool J,
Dave Gahan,
Yellowson,
Susan Cadogan,
Camberwell Now,
Skarface,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Skaos,
X-102,
Little Man,
Severed Heads,
Peter & Gordon,
Ohio Players,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Litter,
Monolake,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gang Green,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Derrick May,
Suburban Knight,
Piero Umiliani,
Lakeside,
The Selecter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.