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 Lithuania and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Saints to the rock 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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
The Victims,
Rufus Thomas,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rites of Spring,
Lalann,
Wasted Youth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Terry Callier,
The Trojans,
Mark Hollis,
Maleditus Sound,
The Sound,
10cc,
The Doobie Brothers,
Maurizio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dead Boys,
World's Most,
Arab on Radar,
Brass Construction,
Groovy Waters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Urselle,
Godley & Creme,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Au Pairs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Mojo Men,
The Kinks,
DNA,
The Monks,
Qualms,
The Smoke,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Flash Fearless,
Slick Rick,
MC5,
Aaron Thompson,
Goldenarms,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Flag,
ABBA,
The Gap Band,
Drexciya,
Michelle Simonal,
Swell Maps,
Minutemen,
Cluster,
Slave,
Essential Logic,
Sandy B,
Ten City,
This Heat,
the Human League,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tomorrow,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Raincoats,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.