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 Honduras and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Neu!,
Fela Kuti,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Goldenarms,
Tomorrow,
Curtis Mayfield,
Shuggie Otis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ornette Coleman,
Judy Mowatt,
Rakim,
The Count Five,
Pere Ubu,
Aswad,
London Community Gospel Choir,
kango's stein massive,
Bronski Beat,
Qualms,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Neon Judgement,
E-Dancer,
Derrick Morgan,
John Holt,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bob Dylan,
Black Bananas,
The Victims,
The Saints,
Motorama,
Hot Snakes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Erykah Badu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fat Boys,
Mr. Review,
The Invisible,
Lucky Dragons,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The New Christs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Idris Muhammad,
Warsaw,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Foxx,
Severed Heads,
The Pop Group,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Girls At Our Best!,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marc Almond,
Symarip,
Jerry Gold Smith,
X-Ray Spex,
Dave Gahan,
The Human League,
Duran Duran,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Modern Lovers,
Average White Band,
The Golliwogs,
Intrusion,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.