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 Milan.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
The Fugs,
David Bowie,
EPMD,
Hot Snakes,
Sixth Finger,
Livin' Joy,
David Axelrod,
Camberwell Now,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fuzztones,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Mojo Men,
Flipper,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Monks,
The Happenings,
China Crisis,
Skarface,
Mandrill,
Mo-Dettes,
Youth Brigade,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
ABBA,
the Soft Cell,
Jeff Mills,
Buzzcocks,
Matthew Bourne,
The Wake,
Bang On A Can,
Bobby Womack,
Clear Light,
U.S. Maple,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
K-Klass,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Deakin,
Warren Ellis,
Marmalade,
Brick,
The Cure,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Johnny Clarke,
The Pretty Things,
Piero Umiliani,
Shuggie Otis,
Bauhaus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Young Marble Giants,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Real Kids,
Boredoms,
The Cowsills,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eurythmics,
June of 44,
Wasted Youth,
The Shadows of Knight,
Aaron Thompson,
Excepter,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.