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 Nauru and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Half Japanese to the grunge 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Scott Walker,
Gerry Rafferty,
Agent Orange,
kango's stein massive,
Tropical Tobacco,
The J.B.'s,
Depeche Mode,
Country Teasers,
Donald Byrd,
Siglo XX,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sparks,
Arab on Radar,
Spandau Ballet,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Electric Prunes,
Funkadelic,
Alice Coltrane,
Interpol,
June Days,
Fela Kuti,
Scrapy,
Vladislav Delay,
The Happenings,
Tears for Fears,
These Immortal Souls,
Dave Gahan,
Monks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Bananas,
Sun Ra,
The Cramps,
Kaleidoscope,
Swell Maps,
Symarip,
Kurtis Blow,
Pantaleimon,
X-102,
Liliput,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Near,
Boz Scaggs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The New Christs,
Dark Day,
a-ha,
K-Klass,
One Last Wish,
Anakelly,
Susan Cadogan,
Wally Richardson,
Metal Thangz,
Arthur Verocai,
Bluetip,
Todd Terry,
Darondo,
Saccharine Trust,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.