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 Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
The Misunderstood,
Mandrill,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Magma,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Pop Group,
A Certain Ratio,
Jacques Brel,
U.S. Maple,
Robert Hood,
Rod Modell,
Young Marble Giants,
48th St. Collective,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tubeway Army,
The Flesh Eaters,
Oneida,
John Cale,
Basic Channel,
Robert Görl,
Easy Going,
Agitation Free,
Pussy Galore,
Parry Music,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fela Kuti,
John Lydon,
Marine Girls,
Yusef Lateef,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Vladislav Delay,
New York Dolls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wasted Youth,
Cheater Slicks,
Youth Brigade,
Agent Orange,
James White and The Blacks,
Das Ding,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gastr Del Sol,
Aural Exciters,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Skatalites,
The Beau Brummels,
Todd Terry,
John Foxx,
Cymande,
Subhumans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harry Pussy,
Soulsonic Force,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gories,
Sandy B,
Big Daddy Kane,
Stockholm Monsters,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.