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 Angola and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mr. Review to the disco 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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Bananas,
The Modern Lovers,
The Neon Judgement,
Al Stewart,
David Axelrod,
Wings,
Barrington Levy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bizarre Inc.,
Quando Quango,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amon Düül II,
Smog,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Glenn Branca,
Black Flag,
Loose Ends,
Jeff Mills,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dead Boys,
Echospace,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cecil Taylor,
The Birthday Party,
Peter & Gordon,
Lalann,
Monolake,
LL Cool J,
Spoonie Gee,
Rod Modell,
Intrusion,
Nils Olav,
Thompson Twins,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Franke,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Offenders,
Crash Course in Science,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sun City Girls,
Hot Snakes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Silicon Teens,
The Gories,
Donald Byrd,
Lightning Bolt,
Robert Wyatt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Blancmange,
Talk Talk,
Make Up,
The Victims,
Danielle Patucci,
Animal Collective,
The Moody Blues,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.