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 Guatemala and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Niagra to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
New Order,
Visage,
Connie Case,
Hot Snakes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nirvana,
The Mojo Men,
Malaria!,
David Bowie,
The Monks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Avey Tare,
Robert Görl,
The Fortunes,
Rakim,
The Stooges,
Qualms,
Jeff Lynne,
Nas,
The Alarm Clocks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Parry Music,
Minnie Riperton,
Circle Jerks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Alphaville,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Smoke,
Bluetip,
the Normal,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Angels of Light,
Boz Scaggs,
Jeff Mills,
Swans,
Anakelly,
Rekid,
Fela Kuti,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roger Hodgson,
Organ,
Simply Red,
The Smiths,
These Immortal Souls,
Barrington Levy,
Buzzcocks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Gladiators,
Althea and Donna,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tommy Roe,
Susan Cadogan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Howard Jones,
The Techniques,
Graham Central Station,
The Trojans,
Angry Samoans,
Quadrant,
Ultra Naté,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.