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 Moldova and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 the Fania All-Stars to the crunk 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Altered Images,
Carl Craig,
Sarah Menescal,
Alphaville,
The Real Kids,
48th St. Collective,
The Gories,
The Associates,
Skaos,
Stiv Bators,
Metal Thangz,
Outsiders,
Tears for Fears,
Make Up,
Nas,
E-Dancer,
Gong,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Golliwogs,
Donald Byrd,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thompson Twins,
the Bar-Kays,
The Smiths,
Gichy Dan,
The Gap Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Happenings,
Iggy Pop,
The Fire Engines,
Roger Hodgson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scott Walker,
The Velvet Underground,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Charles Mingus,
Slave,
Quando Quango,
Little Man,
Colin Newman,
Yazoo,
Dark Day,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Althea and Donna,
John Holt,
Arcadia,
Cal Tjader,
Derrick Morgan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lyres,
Eric Copeland,
Maleditus Sound,
L. Decosne,
The Five Americans,
Television Personalities,
Absolute Body Control,
Aural Exciters,
Shoche,
Alice Coltrane,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.