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 Ecuador and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Absolute Body Control to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Gang Green,
Sight & Sound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Japan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cabaret Voltaire,
E-Dancer,
The Smoke,
Banda Bassotti,
Juan Atkins,
Stiv Bators,
Black Pus,
Marshall Jefferson,
Monks,
Junior Murvin,
Sandy B,
Parry Music,
H. Thieme,
The Associates,
Brand Nubian,
Swell Maps,
Organ,
Depeche Mode,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultimate Spinach,
Youth Brigade,
Arthur Verocai,
The Names,
Radio Birdman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lalann,
Tommy Roe,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Cramps,
Ohio Players,
the Slits,
The Martian,
Mandrill,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fall,
Crime,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Pretty Things,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Smiths,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bobby Byrd,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crooked Eye,
Lebanon Hanover,
Anthony Braxton,
the Human League,
The Tremeloes,
Suburban Knight,
The Birthday Party,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.