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 Korea South and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rotary Connection to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
China Crisis,
Darondo,
Sarah Menescal,
the Soft Cell,
Mr. Review,
Soulsonic Force,
Porter Ricks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Liliput,
Harry Pussy,
Wasted Youth,
Bill Wells,
Nation of Ulysses,
Excepter,
Kurtis Blow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Star Department,
Visage,
The Dirtbombs,
Massinfluence,
Lungfish,
Royal Trux,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Aswad,
T. Rex,
Blancmange,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sparks,
Albert Ayler,
Hot Snakes,
Interpol,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Last Poets,
Goldenarms,
Pole,
Brothers Johnson,
Minor Threat,
Pylon,
Derrick May,
Little Man,
The Doors,
Gerry Rafferty,
48th St. Collective,
Johnny Osbourne,
Slick Rick,
Tropical Tobacco,
Al Stewart,
Ornette Coleman,
Deadbeat,
New York Dolls,
Hardrive,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dorothy Ashby,
New Order,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Shoche,
Cecil Taylor,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Sheep,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.