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 Grenada and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Mojo Men to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
June Days,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tubeway Army,
Rites of Spring,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kenny Larkin,
Chrome,
Robert Görl,
Gastr Del Sol,
Buzzcocks,
Agitation Free,
Whodini,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
LL Cool J,
Inner City,
Lindisfarne,
T. Rex,
Steve Hackett,
Agent Orange,
Bang On A Can,
D'Angelo,
The Dave Clark Five,
DJ Style,
Absolute Body Control,
Vladislav Delay,
The United States of America,
Sex Pistols,
Erasure,
Black Sheep,
Aaron Thompson,
Sixth Finger,
Shoche,
The Last Poets,
Carl Craig,
Minor Threat,
Ponytail,
Mary Jane Girls,
The American Breed,
Q65,
Pulsallama,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Section 25,
Brand Nubian,
Peter and Kerry,
Severed Heads,
the Normal,
Graham Central Station,
The Invisible,
The Cramps,
8 Eyed Spy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bluetip,
Arthur Verocai,
Qualms,
Hot Snakes,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fugs,
The Slackers,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cowsills,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.