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 Hungary and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 mellotron 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Q65,
The Buckinghams,
Babytalk,
Lindisfarne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Aswad,
Thompson Twins,
Mo-Dettes,
the Swans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grauzone,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Offenders,
Girls At Our Best!,
Deadbeat,
Nils Olav,
KRS-One,
Pussy Galore,
Letta Mbulu,
Piero Umiliani,
Young Marble Giants,
The Grass Roots,
Technova,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantaleimon,
Blossom Toes,
Aaron Thompson,
The Black Dice,
the Slits,
Alphaville,
The Leaves,
Max Romeo,
Toni Rubio,
Tubeway Army,
Aloha Tigers,
Ornette Coleman,
This Heat,
Intrusion,
Eden Ahbez,
Delon & Dalcan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Easy Going,
Scan 7,
Tommy Roe,
Gang Starr,
Ossler,
Funky Four + One,
Agent Orange,
Nick Fraelich,
Tomorrow,
Arab on Radar,
The Smoke,
R.M.O.,
Chris Corsano,
Newcleus,
The Slits,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.