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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alphaville to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Bad Manners,
B.T. Express,
Underground Resistance,
Pierre Henry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Magazine,
Minnie Riperton,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Monks,
Television,
Swans,
Section 25,
Little Man,
The Victims,
Al Stewart,
Pussy Galore,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Moon,
the Slits,
ABBA,
Bobby Womack,
Depeche Mode,
Ronan,
The Fortunes,
Sight & Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Leonard Cohen,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Saints,
Faust,
The Pretty Things,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Duran Duran,
Nation of Ulysses,
Reuben Wilson,
Ice-T,
Talk Talk,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grey Daturas,
D'Angelo,
The Motions,
The American Breed,
Pantaleimon,
Popol Vuh,
Scott Walker,
Arthur Verocai,
Franke,
Big Daddy Kane,
Massinfluence,
Warsaw,
Visage,
The Gories,
Amazonics,
Rhythm & Sound,
Index,
Freddie Wadling,
Jawbox,
Jerry's Kids,
Jacques Brel,
World's Most,
Anakelly,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.