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 Taiwan and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin 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 The Sound to the electroclash 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
The Victims,
Magazine,
Sam Rivers,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Velvet Underground,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Agitation Free,
The Durutti Column,
Joe Finger,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Pus,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobby Byrd,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dead Boys,
AZ,
Lou Christie,
The Mummies,
Sound Behaviour,
Eli Mardock,
Jeff Lynne,
Television Personalities,
Bobby Womack,
Panda Bear,
Little Man,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Oneida,
Darondo,
Pagans,
JFA,
The Saints,
The Fuzztones,
KRS-One,
Electric Prunes,
Loose Ends,
The Modern Lovers,
the Human League,
Robert Wyatt,
Unwound,
The Kinks,
Intrusion,
Khruangbin,
Tubeway Army,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sister Nancy,
Reuben Wilson,
James White and The Blacks,
Accadde A,
the Germs,
Pylon,
Malaria!,
Scrapy,
David Bowie,
The Buckinghams,
The Pretty Things,
Sun Ra,
Traffic Nightmare,
These Immortal Souls,
Groovy Waters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Supertramp,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.