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 Solomon Islands and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Smiths to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Dead C,
Iggy Pop,
Tom Boy,
Barbara Tucker,
Sex Pistols,
Danielle Patucci,
Rod Modell,
The Litter,
Massinfluence,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
T.S.O.L.,
The Offenders,
The Cowsills,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scratch Acid,
Khruangbin,
Deepchord,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Oblivians,
Carl Craig,
Quadrant,
The Birthday Party,
Hashim,
The Angels of Light,
Delon & Dalcan,
UT,
The Five Americans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cecil Taylor,
Von Mondo,
Underground Resistance,
Second Layer,
This Heat,
Black Bananas,
Amazonics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kurtis Blow,
EPMD,
R.M.O.,
10cc,
Josef K,
Joyce Sims,
Ituana,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cal Tjader,
Desert Stars,
Section 25,
Ultra Naté,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Public Enemy,
Panda Bear,
Henry Cow,
T. Rex,
Yellowson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Harmonia,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bronski Beat,
Steve Hackett,
Franke,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.