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 Ghana and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ 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 John Foxx to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Tim Buckley,
Scion,
48th St. Collective,
Soulsonic Force,
Bronski Beat,
Aloha Tigers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Index,
Depeche Mode,
Camberwell Now,
The Knickerbockers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Warren Ellis,
Sixth Finger,
Barrington Levy,
Todd Terry,
Howard Jones,
Heaven 17,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dave Gahan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Moebius,
Josef K,
Tears for Fears,
Jacob Miller,
Wolf Eyes,
Reuben Wilson,
JFA,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brothers Johnson,
Echospace,
The Moody Blues,
the Swans,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Intrusion,
Minutemen,
Kayak,
Terry Callier,
X-101,
Sam Rivers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cowsills,
Darondo,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Bananas,
Unrelated Segments,
The Buckinghams,
Duran Duran,
DJ Style,
Ponytail,
June Days,
The Birthday Party,
Cameo,
Kerri Chandler,
Joey Negro,
Piero Umiliani,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.