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 Romania and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum 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 Inner City to the electroclash 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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Can,
Arthur Verocai,
Bad Manners,
Hasil Adkins,
Brand Nubian,
Zapp,
Smog,
Josef K,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bobby Womack,
The Grass Roots,
Thee Headcoats,
Erasure,
Harry Pussy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Monolake,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
This Heat,
Von Mondo,
Second Layer,
Dennis Brown,
cv313,
Black Moon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deepchord,
Delta 5,
New Order,
The Pretty Things,
Barbara Tucker,
Soft Machine,
Soulsonic Force,
Barry Ungar,
Sällskapet,
Gastr Del Sol,
Aswad,
Fat Boys,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Foxx,
Interpol,
Ituana,
Angry Samoans,
Maleditus Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sixth Finger,
Inner City,
the Swans,
Deadbeat,
Procol Harum,
The Standells,
Spoonie Gee,
Ken Boothe,
Pet Shop Boys,
Index,
The Divine Comedy,
Das Ding,
Average White Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jacob Miller,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.