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 Spain and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Michael McDonald 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 Angels of Light to the punk 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Connie Case,
Oneida,
Robert Görl,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Pop Group,
Drexciya,
Fugazi,
Nico,
The Leaves,
Suicide,
Lee Hazlewood,
T.S.O.L.,
The New Christs,
Soul II Soul,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultra Naté,
Eric Dolphy,
Moby Grape,
Chrome,
The Remains,
Kenny Larkin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crispy Ambulance,
Idris Muhammad,
Matthew Bourne,
Cal Tjader,
Fear,
Visage,
Prince Buster,
E-Dancer,
Barrington Levy,
The American Breed,
The Red Krayola,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Average White Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
James White and The Blacks,
Jacques Brel,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Toasters,
Camberwell Now,
Rod Modell,
Interpol,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mummies,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wings,
Nas,
Theoretical Girls,
Scrapy,
Marvin Gaye,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scott Walker,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Arthur Verocai,
Schoolly D,
The Vogues,
Nick Fraelich,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.