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 Eritrea and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Beau Brummels to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dead Boys,
Scratch Acid,
Aaron Thompson,
Circle Jerks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ten City,
Althea and Donna,
The Tremeloes,
The Sonics,
The Sound,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dark Day,
The Vogues,
Metal Thangz,
The Trojans,
Das Ding,
Supertramp,
Essential Logic,
Rapeman,
Inner City,
K-Klass,
Sun Ra,
The Cure,
DNA,
Flipper,
Symarip,
Malaria!,
The Gap Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alton Ellis,
Piero Umiliani,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Gladiators,
DJ Style,
Lakeside,
Brass Construction,
Eli Mardock,
Minutemen,
Electric Prunes,
Wolf Eyes,
Liliput,
Second Layer,
X-101,
Flamin' Groovies,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bad Manners,
The Slits,
Goldenarms,
Stetsasonic,
Fatback Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marmalade,
Newcleus,
James White and The Blacks,
The Selecter,
John Foxx,
Chris Corsano,
Yellowson,
Nick Fraelich,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.