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 Estonia and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Second Layer to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
H. Thieme,
The Detroit Cobras,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Blossom Toes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Sonics,
Michelle Simonal,
Amon Düül,
Pere Ubu,
Boz Scaggs,
Bill Wells,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brass Construction,
Byron Stingily,
the Human League,
The Monochrome Set,
Camberwell Now,
Flash Fearless,
Electric Light Orchestra,
John Cale,
The Pretty Things,
James White and The Blacks,
The Searchers,
These Immortal Souls,
Mo-Dettes,
Matthew Bourne,
Dark Day,
Bobby Sherman,
The United States of America,
Alice Coltrane,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bronski Beat,
The Count Five,
Magazine,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Red Krayola,
Arthur Verocai,
Procol Harum,
Electric Prunes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Todd Rundgren,
Chris & Cosey,
Hashim,
Sonic Youth,
ABBA,
Marine Girls,
China Crisis,
Duran Duran,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pierre Henry,
Connie Case,
Q and Not U,
LL Cool J,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Saints,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gang of Four,
Negative Approach,
Clear Light,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.