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 Malaysia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro 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 Brand Nubian to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin 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 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Swans,
Don Cherry,
Qualms,
Patti Smith,
Cluster,
Eden Ahbez,
Tropical Tobacco,
Con Funk Shun,
Bang On A Can,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cheater Slicks,
Suicide,
The Selecter,
Icehouse,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Camouflage,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bush Tetras,
World's Most,
The Cure,
Ralphi Rosario,
T. Rex,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Birthday Party,
Mark Hollis,
Iggy Pop,
Index,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Saints,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Harmonia,
Grauzone,
The Buckinghams,
The Velvet Underground,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Divine Comedy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Niagra,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sun Ra,
The Fugs,
K-Klass,
Country Teasers,
Pole,
Wire,
Johnny Clarke,
Minor Threat,
Black Moon,
Rites of Spring,
Al Stewart,
The Gun Club,
Kas Product,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Chris Corsano,
Matthew Bourne,
the Fania All-Stars,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.