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 Nauru and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Toronto.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Livin' Joy,
Robert Wyatt,
Sandy B,
Dennis Brown,
Man Parrish,
Agent Orange,
Sister Nancy,
Avey Tare,
Radio Birdman,
T.S.O.L.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Franke,
Arcadia,
the Fania All-Stars,
David McCallum,
Godley & Creme,
Organ,
Kerrie Biddell,
This Heat,
Theoretical Girls,
Bronski Beat,
Metal Thangz,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joyce Sims,
Idris Muhammad,
Heaven 17,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Evens,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lungfish,
The Flesh Eaters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brick,
Jeff Mills,
Trumans Water,
Los Fastidios,
Duran Duran,
Roy Ayers,
Peter and Kerry,
Au Pairs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Christie,
Blake Baxter,
the Swans,
Yusef Lateef,
Saccharine Trust,
Half Japanese,
Jacques Brel,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Depeche Mode,
Gichy Dan,
World's Most,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camouflage,
Al Stewart,
Fifty Foot Hose,
OOIOO,
The Detroit Cobras,
Drive Like Jehu,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.