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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dorothy Ashby to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
UT,
Bluetip,
Al Stewart,
Connie Case,
Spandau Ballet,
The Pretty Things,
Agitation Free,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fatback Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
MDC,
Yellowson,
Frankie Knuckles,
F. McDonald,
Leonard Cohen,
Warren Ellis,
T. Rex,
Lucky Dragons,
Inner City,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bill Near,
Guru Guru,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
China Crisis,
The Last Poets,
The Evens,
Depeche Mode,
Technova,
Jawbox,
Average White Band,
Severed Heads,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
X-Ray Spex,
Andrew Hill,
Bob Dylan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scientists,
Darondo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tres Demented,
Sun Ra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Au Pairs,
John Lydon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ossler,
Lou Christie,
Audionom,
Excepter,
Adolescents,
Grauzone,
The Young Rascals,
Arab on Radar,
Maurizio,
The Searchers,
Gabor Szabo,
Heaven 17,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Reuben Wilson,
Suburban Knight,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.