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 Morocco and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 New Order to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Darondo,
H. Thieme,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joy Division,
Todd Rundgren,
Kurtis Blow,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fat Boys,
Goldenarms,
Banda Bassotti,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Kinks,
Warsaw,
Altered Images,
Sixth Finger,
Maurizio,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joensuu 1685,
Mr. Review,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chris & Cosey,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Liliput,
Oblivians,
Roger Hodgson,
Underground Resistance,
Pierre Henry,
The Leaves,
Funkadelic,
Fear,
Marc Almond,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Livin' Joy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cluster,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rosa Yemen,
Al Stewart,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Zeros,
Minnie Riperton,
Vladislav Delay,
Reuben Wilson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Crispian St. Peters,
Echospace,
Niagra,
The Pretty Things,
The Moleskins,
Reagan Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Public Enemy,
Jacques Brel,
The Fuzztones,
June of 44,
Bauhaus,
The Buckinghams,
Rotary Connection,
Charles Mingus,
Cymande,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.