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 Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bush Tetras to the grime 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Graham Central Station,
Tears for Fears,
James White and The Blacks,
Eve St. Jones,
Kenny Larkin,
John Foxx,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gil Scott Heron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Khruangbin,
Mo-Dettes,
Vainqueur,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dead Boys,
Davy DMX,
48th St. Collective,
Swans,
Young Marble Giants,
Zero Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Malaria!,
Inner City,
The Invisible,
The Five Americans,
The Offenders,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gang of Four,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sonny Sharrock,
Q65,
Das Ding,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pantaleimon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Radio Birdman,
B.T. Express,
Janne Schatter,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Interpol,
Mark Hollis,
Franke,
Delta 5,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Grey Daturas,
Q and Not U,
Iggy Pop,
the Association,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Idris Muhammad,
John Coltrane,
Scan 7,
Roxy Music,
Camouflage,
Eli Mardock,
Clear Light,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eurythmics,
Eric Copeland,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rosa Yemen,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.