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 Bhutan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Television Personalities to the disco 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bob Dylan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Suburban Knight,
Amon Düül,
Hasil Adkins,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Deadbeat,
June of 44,
Technova,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Buckinghams,
John Lydon,
Sex Pistols,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cramps,
New York Dolls,
Bluetip,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gun Club,
Chris Corsano,
Alton Ellis,
Rekid,
Cymande,
Joensuu 1685,
Little Man,
Maurizio,
Ornette Coleman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jeru the Damaja,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tim Buckley,
Scientists,
Josef K,
Tears for Fears,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Index,
Black Moon,
Trumans Water,
The Motions,
Aural Exciters,
Marc Almond,
Rapeman,
Pet Shop Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fugazi,
Camberwell Now,
Black Bananas,
Fad Gadget,
Yazoo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sexual Harrassment,
Warsaw,
The Human League,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Last Poets,
Tomorrow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.