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 Malta and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 the Soft Cell to the punk 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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Motions,
Gregory Isaacs,
Surgeon,
The Trojans,
Don Cherry,
Das Ding,
The Slits,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
D'Angelo,
Gong,
The Flesh Eaters,
Quando Quango,
Matthew Bourne,
Alphaville,
The Gladiators,
Dead Boys,
Sixth Finger,
Marc Almond,
Shuggie Otis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Victims,
Chris Corsano,
Pylon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Human League,
Faraquet,
Carl Craig,
Sugar Minott,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Au Pairs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ornette Coleman,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Flag,
Black Pus,
Graham Central Station,
This Heat,
The Pretty Things,
Aaron Thompson,
The Blackbyrds,
Skaos,
Ronnie Foster,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scion,
Wolf Eyes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Derrick Morgan,
Nirvana,
Q and Not U,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Blancmange,
Alice Coltrane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobby Womack,
the Slits,
Judy Mowatt,
PIL,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.