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 Mauritius and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Salvador.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Buzzcocks to the electroclash 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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Flipper,
Niagra,
The American Breed,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Buzzcocks,
the Soft Cell,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moss Icon,
Brothers Johnson,
Procol Harum,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cure,
Suicide,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Pretty Things,
Metal Thangz,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Warren Ellis,
The Neon Judgement,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eurythmics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hot Snakes,
Marine Girls,
The Red Krayola,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Inner City,
The Barracudas,
Joyce Sims,
The Gories,
Boz Scaggs,
Peter and Kerry,
Derrick Morgan,
Harry Pussy,
The Stooges,
the Normal,
Lou Christie,
Neil Young,
La Düsseldorf,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bill Wells,
Chris Corsano,
The Saints,
Blossom Toes,
Bob Dylan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Associates,
The Angels of Light,
Intrusion,
Charles Mingus,
The Gap Band,
Fatback Band,
Excepter,
Lou Reed,
Ultra Naté,
Pulsallama,
Robert Görl,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.