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 Bangladesh and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron 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 Crooked Eye to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Second Layer,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rotary Connection,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Isaac Hayes,
Oblivians,
Section 25,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
These Immortal Souls,
Nirvana,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sonic Youth,
Gong,
Robert Wyatt,
MDC,
Shuggie Otis,
Jacques Brel,
Sonny Sharrock,
Loose Ends,
Zero Boys,
Skriet,
The Blackbyrds,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marshall Jefferson,
DJ Style,
Gerry Rafferty,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Supertramp,
Bob Dylan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joy Division,
Ituana,
Guru Guru,
Trumans Water,
Heaven 17,
T.S.O.L.,
Livin' Joy,
UT,
Amazonics,
Con Funk Shun,
The Blues Magoos,
Joey Negro,
The Dead C,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mandrill,
The Toasters,
Zapp,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mojo Men,
Severed Heads,
Scott Walker,
Lee Hazlewood,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Byrd,
Man Eating Sloth,
Boz Scaggs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sex Pistols,
Underground Resistance,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.