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 the UAE and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Excepter to the crunk 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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Colin Newman,
Nils Olav,
Fort Wilson Riot,
AZ,
Throbbing Gristle,
Neil Young,
The Evens,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun Ra,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gories,
Spandau Ballet,
Country Teasers,
Tommy Roe,
Thee Headcoats,
T. Rex,
These Immortal Souls,
Fear,
Ituana,
The Star Department,
The Toasters,
Groovy Waters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Yazoo,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Last Poets,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Vainqueur,
Eli Mardock,
Amon Düül,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Chris & Cosey,
a-ha,
The Remains,
Mark Hollis,
Tomorrow,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Foxx,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wasted Youth,
Soulsonic Force,
Faraquet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Black Dice,
Drexciya,
Pierre Henry,
Agent Orange,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Franke,
Patti Smith,
Boz Scaggs,
Kerri Chandler,
Prince Buster,
Sound Behaviour,
Flipper,
Dennis Brown,
Visage,
Gabor Szabo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.