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 Belize and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cluster to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Duran Duran,
Mandrill,
Wolf Eyes,
Wally Richardson,
The Toasters,
The Sonics,
a-ha,
Flash Fearless,
Fluxion,
Au Pairs,
Anakelly,
Fear,
X-Ray Spex,
Moby Grape,
Amazonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Excepter,
Jacques Brel,
The Gladiators,
Black Sheep,
Cymande,
Flipper,
Mad Mike,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Juan Atkins,
Marine Girls,
Bronski Beat,
Half Japanese,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Germs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Monolake,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
James White and The Blacks,
Sarah Menescal,
Marvin Gaye,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Silicon Teens,
Tom Boy,
The Mummies,
Sam Rivers,
the Soft Cell,
Sällskapet,
Sparks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Con Funk Shun,
Neil Young,
Blake Baxter,
The Litter,
Roxy Music,
Kayak,
June of 44,
Dave Gahan,
Los Fastidios,
The Velvet Underground,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bush Tetras,
A Flock of Seagulls,
R.M.O.,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.