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 Cape Verde and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 clarinet 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 Camouflage to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Last Poets,
Sex Pistols,
The Move,
Arthur Verocai,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mantronix,
Skaos,
Barbara Tucker,
The Sound,
Khruangbin,
The Dead C,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry's Kids,
The Mummies,
Scrapy,
Marvin Gaye,
John Lydon,
Joe Finger,
Fluxion,
Crash Course in Science,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pet Shop Boys,
ABBA,
the Normal,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gabor Szabo,
Althea and Donna,
Stockholm Monsters,
Procol Harum,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Japan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ossler,
Davy DMX,
Gerry Rafferty,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Man Eating Sloth,
L. Decosne,
Simply Red,
The Real Kids,
Funkadelic,
Mandrill,
Babytalk,
Neu!,
Derrick May,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Scan 7,
the Germs,
Roxette,
Ken Boothe,
Hardrive,
Bobby Sherman,
Bill Wells,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Invisible,
The Standells,
The Associates,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.