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 Kenya and from New York.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Nick Fraelich to the punk 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Circle Jerks,
Scrapy,
Cybotron,
Yazoo,
Mad Mike,
New Order,
Loose Ends,
The Five Americans,
Swell Maps,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ronnie Foster,
Lindisfarne,
Kaleidoscope,
the Human League,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fugazi,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tears for Fears,
The Dead C,
Wire,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Audionom,
Young Marble Giants,
Make Up,
Joy Division,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gong,
Second Layer,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Terrestrial Tones,
Hot Snakes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Blossom Toes,
Tommy Roe,
Black Bananas,
Sällskapet,
Rakim,
Junior Murvin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Cramps,
Alison Limerick,
Stetsasonic,
Fat Boys,
Ten City,
Dark Day,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Names,
Bill Wells,
X-102,
Ohio Players,
Franke,
Country Teasers,
Joey Negro,
The Black Dice,
Q65,
John Cale,
Quadrant,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.