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 Malaysia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ 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 Monks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Jerry's Kids,
Henry Cow,
Rosa Yemen,
Gil Scott Heron,
Neu!,
Au Pairs,
the Slits,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Neon Judgement,
Metal Thangz,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sparks,
Ken Boothe,
Warsaw,
Public Enemy,
Lightning Bolt,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ultra Naté,
Tommy Roe,
Ralphi Rosario,
Deakin,
Ossler,
Parry Music,
John Foxx,
David Axelrod,
Reuben Wilson,
Smog,
The Sound,
Minutemen,
Laurel Aitken,
Tres Demented,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pussy Galore,
Goldenarms,
These Immortal Souls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Peter and Kerry,
Boredoms,
Malaria!,
Swell Maps,
Negative Approach,
Robert Görl,
Suicide,
L. Decosne,
A Certain Ratio,
the Sonics,
Dead Boys,
EPMD,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sexual Harrassment,
LL Cool J,
Cal Tjader,
Marc Almond,
Marine Girls,
New York Dolls,
Organ,
Joyce Sims,
U.S. Maple,
Ultravox,
The Sonics,
Monks,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.