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 Bolivia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 X-101 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Marc Almond,
The Durutti Column,
Moebius,
Hasil Adkins,
The Happenings,
Derrick May,
Matthew Bourne,
Agent Orange,
Inner City,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Dirtbombs,
Scratch Acid,
Eden Ahbez,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Cale,
Dead Boys,
Franke,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cure,
Rosa Yemen,
Groovy Waters,
The Electric Prunes,
Unwound,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Severed Heads,
Anakelly,
The Sound,
Robert Wyatt,
Sexual Harrassment,
Main Source,
Swans,
Aswad,
The Victims,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gang Starr,
Brick,
Organ,
Mars,
Metal Thangz,
Arthur Verocai,
Mark Hollis,
Q and Not U,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bad Manners,
Tubeway Army,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Subhumans,
Fela Kuti,
Amon Düül,
Minutemen,
Kurtis Blow,
X-101,
Niagra,
The Blackbyrds,
Maleditus Sound,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dave Gahan,
Roger Hodgson,
Sparks,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.