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 Solomon Islands and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Human League to the funk 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Stereo Dub,
Trumans Water,
Bronski Beat,
A Certain Ratio,
Bizarre Inc.,
Subhumans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Qualms,
The Litter,
Gong,
X-102,
Jerry's Kids,
The Gun Club,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Martian,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pantytec,
The Buckinghams,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Laurel Aitken,
Kayak,
Donald Byrd,
Q65,
Nico,
Arcadia,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Charles Mingus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Severed Heads,
The J.B.'s,
Chris Corsano,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Procol Harum,
Michelle Simonal,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Bananas,
Circle Jerks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wolf Eyes,
Vainqueur,
Warsaw,
Pagans,
Scrapy,
Pierre Henry,
Mantronix,
Glenn Branca,
Boredoms,
Goldenarms,
Easy Going,
Das Ding,
The Victims,
The Dirtbombs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Quantec,
The Cure,
Swell Maps,
Underground Resistance,
Ultra Naté,
Barry Ungar,
Faust,
The Young Rascals,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.