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 Palau and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb 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 Suicide to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cymande,
D'Angelo,
The Seeds,
Maurizio,
Metal Thangz,
Flash Fearless,
Stiv Bators,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Offenders,
The Kinks,
Whodini,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gastr Del Sol,
Suburban Knight,
Todd Rundgren,
Rakim,
Gregory Isaacs,
Donny Hathaway,
Fear,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kerri Chandler,
Tears for Fears,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fire Engines,
Jandek,
The Knickerbockers,
Alton Ellis,
Motorama,
Swell Maps,
10cc,
Monks,
Davy DMX,
T. Rex,
Echospace,
R.M.O.,
Funky Four + One,
Hoover,
Symarip,
Prince Buster,
New Age Steppers,
The Cramps,
John Foxx,
Juan Atkins,
Johnny Clarke,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brass Construction,
The Trojans,
Arab on Radar,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ronnie Foster,
The Neon Judgement,
Mo-Dettes,
The Selecter,
Wasted Youth,
Byron Stingily,
Man Parrish,
The Wake,
The Saints,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.