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 Tuvalu and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Blancmange to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Normal,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Saints,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Public Enemy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sandy B,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nick Fraelich,
Todd Terry,
Mandrill,
Radio Birdman,
The Neon Judgement,
The Kinks,
Colin Newman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Vladislav Delay,
Echospace,
Monks,
The Index,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
T.S.O.L.,
Average White Band,
Pere Ubu,
Porter Ricks,
Prince Buster,
Amon Düül II,
Fad Gadget,
Mr. Review,
The Happenings,
Bobby Byrd,
The Pop Group,
Max Romeo,
Massinfluence,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Television Personalities,
Dave Gahan,
Sonic Youth,
The Doors,
Graham Central Station,
Black Bananas,
The Toasters,
Soul II Soul,
PIL,
Icehouse,
Nico,
Pole,
Goldenarms,
Marmalade,
Toni Rubio,
Charles Mingus,
Joe Smooth,
Marc Almond,
Archie Shepp,
Dawn Penn,
Neu!,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.