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 Spain and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the crunk 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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Icehouse,
Cymande,
Minutemen,
the Slits,
Glambeats Corp.,
Simply Red,
The Toasters,
Circle Jerks,
Bang On A Can,
Lightning Bolt,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Godley & Creme,
Kurtis Blow,
Porter Ricks,
Talk Talk,
John Holt,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gichy Dan,
Donny Hathaway,
Procol Harum,
Tubeway Army,
Junior Murvin,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Television Personalities,
John Coltrane,
Maleditus Sound,
Rakim,
The Names,
Dark Day,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Severed Heads,
Little Man,
Tim Buckley,
the Association,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Raincoats,
The Offenders,
Mad Mike,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eve St. Jones,
Spoonie Gee,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joy Division,
D'Angelo,
Skriet,
U.S. Maple,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pussy Galore,
Hashim,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Q and Not U,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scrapy,
Oblivians,
The Busters,
MDC,
The Divine Comedy,
Scan 7,
Sarah Menescal,
Fluxion,
Magazine,
Siglo XX,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.