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 Spain and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 Derrick May to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Maleditus Sound,
Animal Collective,
8 Eyed Spy,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Buckinghams,
The Smiths,
Parry Music,
The Evens,
Talk Talk,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Searchers,
Idris Muhammad,
Saccharine Trust,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Blues Magoos,
Malaria!,
Leonard Cohen,
Porter Ricks,
Skarface,
Lower 48,
The Trojans,
Ronnie Foster,
The Tremeloes,
H. Thieme,
Aural Exciters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sarah Menescal,
DJ Style,
Technova,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Invisible,
The Zeros,
Amon Düül II,
Patti Smith,
The Misunderstood,
Nico,
the Human League,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Soft Cell,
Neil Young,
the Sonics,
The Move,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Sherman,
The Modern Lovers,
June of 44,
The Divine Comedy,
Lakeside,
Peter & Gordon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sound Behaviour,
Average White Band,
Minny Pops,
Black Bananas,
The Monks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Victims,
Kerrie Biddell,
Junior Murvin,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.