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 Kyrgyzstan and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the funk 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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
DNA,
AZ,
Spoonie Gee,
Sandy B,
The Vogues,
Rites of Spring,
Joe Smooth,
Yaz,
Newcleus,
Slick Rick,
The Doobie Brothers,
X-Ray Spex,
Black Flag,
the Soft Cell,
The Victims,
Pulsallama,
Fad Gadget,
Underground Resistance,
FM Einheit,
The Move,
Delon & Dalcan,
Soft Machine,
Quadrant,
Cal Tjader,
Eurythmics,
Flipper,
Byron Stingily,
Wasted Youth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Fortunes,
Oblivians,
Agent Orange,
JFA,
X-102,
Surgeon,
Lungfish,
Tres Demented,
Stereo Dub,
Mo-Dettes,
Second Layer,
Blancmange,
Pharoah Sanders,
Skaos,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Human League,
Rufus Thomas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Angry Samoans,
ABBA,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Albert Ayler,
Janne Schatter,
Alice Coltrane,
Make Up,
Au Pairs,
Kaleidoscope,
Frankie Knuckles,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Thompson Twins,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.