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 Mongolia and from London.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Malaria! to the punk 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Nick Fraelich,
Altered Images,
Byron Stingily,
Darondo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Aaron Thompson,
X-102,
Mark Hollis,
Liliput,
Joy Division,
Buzzcocks,
Eddi Front,
8 Eyed Spy,
Monolake,
Negative Approach,
Tropical Tobacco,
Circle Jerks,
The Beau Brummels,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rites of Spring,
Ronnie Foster,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ornette Coleman,
Vainqueur,
Bronski Beat,
Alphaville,
Deakin,
H. Thieme,
The Pop Group,
Suburban Knight,
Graham Central Station,
John Coltrane,
Visage,
Lou Christie,
Yellowson,
Banda Bassotti,
Depeche Mode,
Kerri Chandler,
Intrusion,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fall,
Goldenarms,
Glenn Branca,
The Zeros,
Talk Talk,
The Associates,
The Star Department,
The Red Krayola,
Albert Ayler,
The Five Americans,
Groovy Waters,
The Moody Blues,
The Birthday Party,
Howard Jones,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Public Enemy,
The Evens,
Mars,
Soft Cell,
Jacob Miller,
Joey Negro,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.