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 Japan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Michael McDonald 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 Cybotron 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
The Doobie Brothers,
Chris & Cosey,
Eric Copeland,
Traffic Nightmare,
Slick Rick,
Tres Demented,
Von Mondo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Steve Hackett,
Nick Fraelich,
Danielle Patucci,
The Cure,
Ossler,
FM Einheit,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camberwell Now,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Offenders,
The Durutti Column,
Leonard Cohen,
Albert Ayler,
Bill Near,
Anakelly,
Urselle,
Con Funk Shun,
The Slits,
The Residents,
Crooked Eye,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Franke,
Saccharine Trust,
Visage,
Eurythmics,
U.S. Maple,
Cal Tjader,
Crispy Ambulance,
cv313,
Tubeway Army,
The Moleskins,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lightning Bolt,
Brass Construction,
Janne Schatter,
Agent Orange,
Qualms,
Wire,
The Dirtbombs,
Junior Murvin,
Howard Jones,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sixth Finger,
ABC,
Marine Girls,
Prince Buster,
The Fire Engines,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Blues Magoos,
Buzzcocks,
Kayak,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.