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 Uzbekistan and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ten City to the grunge 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Zero Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roger Hodgson,
The Invisible,
Hot Snakes,
Sarah Menescal,
The Selecter,
Slave,
UT,
Urselle,
Rod Modell,
The Pretty Things,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ponytail,
Eden Ahbez,
Roxette,
The Moody Blues,
Hashim,
Sugar Minott,
Charles Mingus,
Judy Mowatt,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ronnie Foster,
Minnie Riperton,
Blossom Toes,
The Martian,
Dave Gahan,
Wolf Eyes,
World's Most,
Banda Bassotti,
Subhumans,
The Vogues,
Duran Duran,
The Buckinghams,
D'Angelo,
Archie Shepp,
Minutemen,
The Kinks,
Marine Girls,
Severed Heads,
Mission of Burma,
Harmonia,
Heaven 17,
Aural Exciters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Clear Light,
OOIOO,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Howard Jones,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fugazi,
Junior Murvin,
Jacob Miller,
Absolute Body Control,
Bill Near,
Max Romeo,
Saccharine Trust,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.