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 China and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Toni Rubio to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 808 and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Laurel Aitken,
The Techniques,
Desert Stars,
Gerry Rafferty,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Victims,
The Names,
Johnny Osbourne,
Robert Görl,
Second Layer,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Susan Cadogan,
Alison Limerick,
Jacob Miller,
ABBA,
The Standells,
Ituana,
Morten Harket,
Quantec,
Marvin Gaye,
Neil Young,
Bill Wells,
Intrusion,
John Coltrane,
Connie Case,
Ultra Naté,
T. Rex,
LL Cool J,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
MDC,
Jimmy McGriff,
Average White Band,
Surgeon,
Television,
Ossler,
The Moleskins,
Zero Boys,
Gang Starr,
The Residents,
Moss Icon,
Barry Ungar,
The Young Rascals,
Drive Like Jehu,
Skarface,
Cybotron,
Sonny Sharrock,
Terry Callier,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Electric Prunes,
Stiv Bators,
Roxette,
Roger Hodgson,
Porter Ricks,
The Fire Engines,
Mandrill,
Liliput,
Basic Channel,
Rapeman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Reed,
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.