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 Italy and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pet Shop Boys to the punk 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 The Victims. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Dawn Penn,
Boz Scaggs,
John Holt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Sound,
Duran Duran,
Surgeon,
Jacob Miller,
Fear,
Public Image Ltd.,
Adolescents,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ultimate Spinach,
Brothers Johnson,
June of 44,
David McCallum,
Ponytail,
The Golliwogs,
Juan Atkins,
Pagans,
The Leaves,
Groovy Waters,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fall,
Soft Machine,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Young Marble Giants,
Accadde A,
Bob Dylan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Sonics,
Aswad,
The Zeros,
The Pretty Things,
Unrelated Segments,
Mr. Review,
Basic Channel,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eric Dolphy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eve St. Jones,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soul II Soul,
Nation of Ulysses,
FM Einheit,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Slits,
Lungfish,
Glenn Branca,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Whodini,
JFA,
Lower 48,
DJ Sneak,
Aloha Tigers,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.