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 Bulgaria and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bremen.
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 synthesizer 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 Scrapy 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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Eden Ahbez,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scott Walker,
Robert Wyatt,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mantronix,
X-101,
Jawbox,
The Angels of Light,
Tropical Tobacco,
Japan,
The Searchers,
Dead Boys,
Skaos,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marine Girls,
Dave Gahan,
Susan Cadogan,
Whodini,
Dual Sessions,
Carl Craig,
Television,
Accadde A,
Smog,
Angry Samoans,
World's Most,
Pagans,
The J.B.'s,
Man Parrish,
Sällskapet,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Circle Jerks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Flag,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
John Coltrane,
Mo-Dettes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Fall,
Pantytec,
Vainqueur,
Tubeway Army,
Loose Ends,
Bill Wells,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Michelle Simonal,
Byron Stingily,
The Electric Prunes,
Eddi Front,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Dirtbombs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Matthew Bourne,
Audionom,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ossler,
The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set.
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.