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 Tonga and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Cecil Taylor to the electroclash 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Von Mondo,
The Leaves,
Eddi Front,
Crooked Eye,
Flash Fearless,
Brand Nubian,
Radio Birdman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Associates,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bauhaus,
Lungfish,
Camouflage,
Groovy Waters,
T. Rex,
Organ,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Gun Club,
Lyres,
Quando Quango,
Prince Buster,
The Grass Roots,
Avey Tare,
The Moody Blues,
Jacques Brel,
Tears for Fears,
Magma,
Lindisfarne,
The Seeds,
Mo-Dettes,
Barrington Levy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rakim,
Gang Green,
John Coltrane,
Chrome,
Blossom Toes,
Bill Wells,
Agent Orange,
Faraquet,
David Axelrod,
The Mummies,
Guru Guru,
The Martian,
John Holt,
Circle Jerks,
Inner City,
Ultravox,
Wolf Eyes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Stockholm Monsters,
David Bowie,
Joey Negro,
Main Source,
Ponytail,
Suburban Knight,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Radiohead,
Swell Maps,
Outsiders,
Oblivians,
Graham Central Station,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.