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 Uruguay and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Motions to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
The Divine Comedy,
Leonard Cohen,
Fugazi,
MDC,
Frankie Knuckles,
Altered Images,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scott Walker,
Motorama,
Camouflage,
Hot Snakes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sex Pistols,
Monolake,
Traffic Nightmare,
Banda Bassotti,
The New Christs,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Görl,
Donny Hathaway,
Echospace,
Tears for Fears,
Audionom,
Wally Richardson,
F. McDonald,
Cluster,
Fat Boys,
Duran Duran,
Unrelated Segments,
Don Cherry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Techniques,
Brothers Johnson,
Con Funk Shun,
The Cowsills,
Nation of Ulysses,
One Last Wish,
The Durutti Column,
Bluetip,
Cybotron,
Bobby Womack,
Pussy Galore,
The Cramps,
Wings,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Slits,
Y Pants,
Harmonia,
Ronnie Foster,
Lower 48,
Erasure,
E-Dancer,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Doors,
Eden Ahbez,
Dawn Penn,
Drive Like Jehu,
Porter Ricks,
David McCallum,
The Victims,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.