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 Lesotho and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nils Olav to the electroclash 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Swans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jerry's Kids,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lou Christie,
Young Marble Giants,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sex Pistols,
Jacob Miller,
Desert Stars,
Fela Kuti,
The Monochrome Set,
Minnie Riperton,
The Gories,
Inner City,
the Swans,
Sight & Sound,
Skaos,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Todd Rundgren,
MDC,
Black Moon,
Dennis Brown,
Sexual Harrassment,
Essential Logic,
Black Flag,
Underground Resistance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
OOIOO,
Harmonia,
Anakelly,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Quantec,
U.S. Maple,
Angry Samoans,
The Sound,
The Evens,
Colin Newman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Shuggie Otis,
Big Daddy Kane,
X-Ray Spex,
Bang On A Can,
Wings,
Rites of Spring,
the Soft Cell,
Neu!,
Sister Nancy,
Eli Mardock,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
48th St. Collective,
Ossler,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scion,
Fad Gadget,
Supertramp,
The Toasters,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.