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 Gambia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 Camberwell Now to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Public Enemy,
Scratch Acid,
Yellowson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Searchers,
Theoretical Girls,
Peter and Kerry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nick Fraelich,
Con Funk Shun,
Cheater Slicks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pole,
The Moleskins,
Ornette Coleman,
Desert Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Yaz,
the Slits,
Make Up,
Thee Headcoats,
the Germs,
a-ha,
Urselle,
This Heat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Swell Maps,
Grauzone,
Glenn Branca,
Wolf Eyes,
Girls At Our Best!,
PIL,
Brass Construction,
Maleditus Sound,
Nas,
Fluxion,
Unwound,
The United States of America,
Au Pairs,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Tremeloes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fear,
Swans,
Audionom,
Panda Bear,
Pet Shop Boys,
Curtis Mayfield,
Vladislav Delay,
The Stooges,
Talk Talk,
Connie Case,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DJ Style,
The Mummies,
Section 25,
The Happenings,
June of 44,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.