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 Swaziland and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro 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 The Electric Prunes to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Adolescents,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Five Americans,
Sex Pistols,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Circle Jerks,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fire Engines,
CMW,
Chris Corsano,
The Dirtbombs,
Bronski Beat,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Charles Mingus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rufus Thomas,
X-Ray Spex,
Dual Sessions,
the Human League,
The Fall,
Eden Ahbez,
John Holt,
Roxette,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Skatalites,
DJ Sneak,
Eric Copeland,
The Associates,
Severed Heads,
Section 25,
Blancmange,
the Soft Cell,
Bobby Byrd,
Kaleidoscope,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Cale,
The Angels of Light,
The Index,
Simply Red,
Unrelated Segments,
The Fuzztones,
Pylon,
Laurel Aitken,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Gap Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sonic Youth,
Bush Tetras,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cymande,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Durutti Column,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Hasil Adkins,
The Mojo Men,
Von Mondo,
cv313,
Monolake,
Ituana,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.