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 Spain and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Simply Red to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
John Foxx,
Model 500,
Darondo,
Lee Hazlewood,
June Days,
Suburban Knight,
Loose Ends,
Liliput,
R.M.O.,
X-102,
Man Parrish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gladiators,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Matthew Bourne,
H. Thieme,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Searchers,
The United States of America,
The Happenings,
The Litter,
Cal Tjader,
Smog,
Thompson Twins,
The New Christs,
Mandrill,
Max Romeo,
In Retrospect,
Yazoo,
Howard Jones,
Eve St. Jones,
Ossler,
Jacques Brel,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Walker Brothers,
Panda Bear,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Pus,
Circle Jerks,
Fatback Band,
The Remains,
Hasil Adkins,
Roxette,
Barrington Levy,
The Count Five,
Sixth Finger,
Cymande,
UT,
Harmonia,
Schoolly D,
Severed Heads,
The Sound,
Khruangbin,
Lyres,
Quantec,
The Toasters,
The Monochrome Set,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jeff Mills,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.