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 Guinea and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Glambeats Corp. to the dance 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Spandau Ballet,
These Immortal Souls,
Liliput,
Metal Thangz,
Goldenarms,
Ultravox,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bizarre Inc.,
Aaron Thompson,
ABBA,
Reuben Wilson,
Agent Orange,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Cowsills,
Judy Mowatt,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Slits,
Darondo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Beau Brummels,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fela Kuti,
Ossler,
Funkadelic,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Interpol,
Amazonics,
Hasil Adkins,
Intrusion,
Talk Talk,
The American Breed,
The Evens,
Yaz,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kerri Chandler,
Oblivians,
Schoolly D,
The Dead C,
U.S. Maple,
Porter Ricks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jacob Miller,
Massinfluence,
the Germs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
X-101,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cybotron,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Gun Club,
Tommy Roe,
One Last Wish,
Fat Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wire,
Amon Düül II,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.