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 Botswana and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Salvador.
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 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 Metal Thangz to the rock 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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Cluster,
AZ,
Echospace,
The Names,
The Fall,
Tim Buckley,
Rosa Yemen,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ultra Naté,
Man Parrish,
Alison Limerick,
Gang Starr,
Arab on Radar,
Warsaw,
Rakim,
Alice Coltrane,
Newcleus,
Ornette Coleman,
Neu!,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Yazoo,
D'Angelo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Groovy Waters,
KRS-One,
The Remains,
Stiv Bators,
The Barracudas,
Country Teasers,
Sex Pistols,
Bill Wells,
Dead Boys,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mark Hollis,
Joey Negro,
Blancmange,
K-Klass,
The Red Krayola,
Tomorrow,
Gabor Szabo,
Ronan,
David Bowie,
ABBA,
Neil Young,
Thompson Twins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Model 500,
Agent Orange,
The Dirtbombs,
The United States of America,
Pantaleimon,
Mad Mike,
The Fuzztones,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
L. Decosne,
Mars,
The Slits,
Television Personalities,
Kurtis Blow,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.