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 Maldives and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet 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 Be Bop Deluxe 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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Bananas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Thompson Twins,
Isaac Hayes,
The Buckinghams,
Delon & Dalcan,
New York Dolls,
Yazoo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Young Marble Giants,
The New Christs,
The United States of America,
The Remains,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Seeds,
Radiohead,
Pantaleimon,
Mission of Burma,
Q and Not U,
Grandmaster Flash,
Robert Görl,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Sherman,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gong,
Gabor Szabo,
Fad Gadget,
John Cale,
Cymande,
Bauhaus,
Mars,
The Raincoats,
Marvin Gaye,
The Dirtbombs,
Niagra,
Soul Sonic Force,
Porter Ricks,
Ludus,
Mad Mike,
the Normal,
Bush Tetras,
DJ Style,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Byrd,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pere Ubu,
The Barracudas,
Y Pants,
K-Klass,
Main Source,
Fugazi,
Negative Approach,
kango's stein massive,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.