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 Laos and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Blancmange to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Hardrive,
Brick,
John Lydon,
L. Decosne,
The Motions,
New Age Steppers,
Clear Light,
Kevin Saunderson,
Delta 5,
Bob Dylan,
The Martian,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Shadows of Knight,
Thompson Twins,
The Gun Club,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Chrome,
The Electric Prunes,
Minutemen,
Eurythmics,
Dark Day,
Dave Gahan,
Von Mondo,
Althea and Donna,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Names,
Eric Copeland,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Normal,
Alice Coltrane,
Ohio Players,
Boredoms,
the Bar-Kays,
Flipper,
Blake Baxter,
Amazonics,
Bang On A Can,
Au Pairs,
Public Enemy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Standells,
The Kinks,
A Certain Ratio,
Supertramp,
Warren Ellis,
Barrington Levy,
The Slackers,
Desert Stars,
Joe Finger,
Faraquet,
Camouflage,
Babytalk,
Yellowson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Make Up,
Trumans Water,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Audionom,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.