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 United States and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 R.M.O. to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
The Names,
The Divine Comedy,
Camouflage,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wally Richardson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joe Finger,
Eddi Front,
Wings,
Livin' Joy,
DNA,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Deepchord,
Nik Kershaw,
cv313,
Pagans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Depeche Mode,
Funky Four + One,
Letta Mbulu,
D'Angelo,
The Five Americans,
Shuggie Otis,
Fluxion,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Main Source,
Eric B and Rakim,
ABC,
Marmalade,
Pulsallama,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Tremeloes,
Wasted Youth,
The Sonics,
Max Romeo,
Young Marble Giants,
Suicide,
Shoche,
Althea and Donna,
Sam Rivers,
Amon Düül II,
The United States of America,
The Victims,
The Sisters of Mercy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Germs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Skatalites,
The Durutti Column,
Quadrant,
The Last Poets,
Q65,
John Coltrane,
T. Rex,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Doors,
The Fortunes,
Henry Cow,
The Vogues,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.