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 Luxembourg and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Johnny Clarke to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Ice-T,
Yazoo,
Darondo,
Liliput,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Circle Jerks,
New Order,
The Music Machine,
The Last Poets,
Radio Birdman,
June of 44,
Deadbeat,
Lindisfarne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Barbara Tucker,
Danielle Patucci,
Technova,
The Neon Judgement,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gong,
Sarah Menescal,
Blake Baxter,
Janne Schatter,
Amon Düül II,
Aaron Thompson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pere Ubu,
Jeff Mills,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pylon,
K-Klass,
Public Image Ltd.,
Clear Light,
Thompson Twins,
Harry Pussy,
Harmonia,
Crime,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Barrington Levy,
Alison Limerick,
Camouflage,
Faraquet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Byron Stingily,
Mars,
U.S. Maple,
Graham Central Station,
Ultravox,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jeff Lynne,
Y Pants,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Easy Going,
Bootsy Collins,
Groovy Waters,
Rakim,
World's Most,
Quando Quango,
Simply Red,
Half Japanese,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.