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 United States 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Neil Young to the funk 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mandrill,
Byron Stingily,
Cluster,
Spoonie Gee,
Mission of Burma,
B.T. Express,
Neil Young,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pierre Henry,
Peter and Kerry,
Technova,
Das Ding,
Ossler,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fuzztones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nirvana,
Aswad,
The Names,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Trojans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
A Certain Ratio,
The Black Dice,
John Cale,
Japan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minny Pops,
Banda Bassotti,
The Five Americans,
Nas,
a-ha,
Thee Headcoats,
L. Decosne,
Donny Hathaway,
Wally Richardson,
David Bowie,
Guru Guru,
Hot Snakes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Henry Cow,
Soft Machine,
Pantaleimon,
Connie Case,
The Slackers,
Swell Maps,
Sarah Menescal,
the Human League,
Barrington Levy,
Saccharine Trust,
The Divine Comedy,
Television Personalities,
Panda Bear,
John Foxx,
Bronski Beat,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Christie,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.