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 Brazil and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba 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 Second Layer to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 the Swans. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Coltrane,
Michelle Simonal,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Metal Thangz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New Age Steppers,
Skriet,
Ossler,
Ralphi Rosario,
Magma,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lyres,
The Gun Club,
Swell Maps,
Prince Buster,
Altered Images,
Scan 7,
The Sound,
This Heat,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tommy Roe,
Outsiders,
Scott Walker,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Negative Approach,
Joensuu 1685,
John Lydon,
Erasure,
Throbbing Gristle,
Oneida,
The Smiths,
Howard Jones,
Clear Light,
The Five Americans,
Donald Byrd,
Spandau Ballet,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crime,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Carl Craig,
David McCallum,
Deepchord,
Ludus,
Dead Boys,
Rod Modell,
Magazine,
Mission of Burma,
Morten Harket,
Shuggie Otis,
Grandmaster Flash,
Steve Hackett,
Sexual Harrassment,
Urselle,
MC5,
Amon Düül,
Kaleidoscope,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.