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 and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
New York Dolls,
Gabor Szabo,
Crispy Ambulance,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Glenn Branca,
Rites of Spring,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jacques Brel,
Scrapy,
Crime,
Jacob Miller,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eurythmics,
Iggy Pop,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gregory Isaacs,
Interpol,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Slits,
Soulsonic Force,
The Dead C,
Pantytec,
Brick,
Kaleidoscope,
Sight & Sound,
Deadbeat,
Wolf Eyes,
The Divine Comedy,
Minutemen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Names,
Marine Girls,
Robert Hood,
Adolescents,
Rekid,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
K-Klass,
The Gories,
The Grass Roots,
Warren Ellis,
Wally Richardson,
Radio Birdman,
Scion,
Yellowson,
Country Teasers,
The Trojans,
Pierre Henry,
Basic Channel,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joe Smooth,
Shoche,
Sällskapet,
Fat Boys,
The Selecter,
Morten Harket,
Fela Kuti,
The Cramps,
The Motions,
China Crisis,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.