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 Saudi Arabia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Holger Czukay 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 FM Einheit 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
L. Decosne,
Chrome,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tres Demented,
Jacob Miller,
James White and The Blacks,
The American Breed,
Newcleus,
Gang Starr,
Iggy Pop,
Lalo Schifrin,
Porter Ricks,
Marvin Gaye,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Main Source,
Aural Exciters,
The Young Rascals,
Spoonie Gee,
Connie Case,
Suicide,
Supertramp,
Fugazi,
Faust,
Morten Harket,
Arcadia,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mark Hollis,
Radiohead,
Nick Fraelich,
a-ha,
Nik Kershaw,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Hot Snakes,
Josef K,
The Raincoats,
Pierre Henry,
The Slackers,
Masters at Work,
Lindisfarne,
Urselle,
Radiopuhelimet,
Can,
The Pretty Things,
Stiv Bators,
Scratch Acid,
The Remains,
Reagan Youth,
World's Most,
Bob Dylan,
Darondo,
Kas Product,
Basic Channel,
Joensuu 1685,
Fela Kuti,
Smog,
Ten City,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
June Days,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joyce Sims,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.