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 Egypt and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer 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 Angry Samoans to the grunge 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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Barbara Tucker,
OOIOO,
Harry Pussy,
Vladislav Delay,
Model 500,
Idris Muhammad,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Second Layer,
Groovy Waters,
Scott Walker,
The Young Rascals,
Magma,
Wings,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Sheep,
Tim Buckley,
Lakeside,
Sarah Menescal,
Brothers Johnson,
Oblivians,
Mandrill,
Y Pants,
T.S.O.L.,
Dead Boys,
Anakelly,
The Red Krayola,
The Cure,
Leonard Cohen,
ABBA,
The Black Dice,
The Techniques,
Rotary Connection,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Q and Not U,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kerri Chandler,
The Kinks,
F. McDonald,
The Cowsills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Johnny Clarke,
Interpol,
Stereo Dub,
Grauzone,
The Music Machine,
Ten City,
The Star Department,
Radiopuhelimet,
ABC,
Smog,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Moon,
Moebius,
X-101,
Altered Images,
Dave Gahan,
Slave,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Country Teasers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.