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 Burkina and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Suicide,
Boredoms,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Velvet Underground,
Drive Like Jehu,
The J.B.'s,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lungfish,
Soft Cell,
Joe Smooth,
Eddi Front,
Isaac Hayes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ohio Players,
Blancmange,
The Human League,
Bobby Sherman,
Lalo Schifrin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mandrill,
Vladislav Delay,
Make Up,
Maleditus Sound,
The American Breed,
Rod Modell,
Sonic Youth,
Bad Manners,
World's Most,
The Neon Judgement,
Barry Ungar,
The Monochrome Set,
Minutemen,
Deadbeat,
Wings,
The Motions,
Andrew Hill,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Slave,
Matthew Bourne,
The Saints,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ultravox,
Funkadelic,
Mad Mike,
The Toasters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kerri Chandler,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Detroit Cobras,
The New Christs,
Marc Almond,
The Vogues,
Byron Stingily,
Bill Near,
ABBA,
Iggy Pop,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.