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 Moldova and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 R.M.O. to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Scratch Acid,
Dave Gahan,
James White and The Blacks,
Monolake,
Main Source,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Spandau Ballet,
Bizarre Inc.,
Harry Pussy,
Juan Atkins,
Bill Wells,
Sällskapet,
The Cure,
K-Klass,
the Swans,
Michelle Simonal,
Jeff Lynne,
Minny Pops,
D'Angelo,
Fela Kuti,
The Golliwogs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Black Bananas,
The Knickerbockers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gladiators,
Byron Stingily,
Rekid,
Freddie Wadling,
Liliput,
Pulsallama,
Technova,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Camouflage,
The Seeds,
Rapeman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bob Dylan,
The Young Rascals,
Pussy Galore,
Deadbeat,
Davy DMX,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Coltrane,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fatback Band,
Guru Guru,
Accadde A,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bobby Byrd,
Brick,
Japan,
Franke,
Peter & Gordon,
Idris Muhammad,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
Minutemen,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.