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 Vanuatu and from London.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kerrie Biddell to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Marc Almond,
Soul Sonic Force,
New York Dolls,
The Searchers,
Scott Walker,
The Grass Roots,
The Misunderstood,
Swans,
The Black Dice,
The Modern Lovers,
The Smiths,
Fad Gadget,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Los Fastidios,
Marine Girls,
The Kinks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hasil Adkins,
Pet Shop Boys,
Japan,
Rites of Spring,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Hutcherson,
D'Angelo,
Liliput,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Procol Harum,
Rakim,
Man Parrish,
Popol Vuh,
The Monochrome Set,
Aloha Tigers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Yellowson,
Pantaleimon,
Tomorrow,
The Slackers,
PIL,
Donny Hathaway,
Interpol,
Alice Coltrane,
Sonic Youth,
Arab on Radar,
Bauhaus,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ponytail,
T. Rex,
John Holt,
Zapp,
Maurizio,
X-102,
Faraquet,
Hoover,
Patti Smith,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bob Dylan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Youth Brigade,
The Seeds,
Sixth Finger,
Barclay James Harvest,
Icehouse,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.