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 Dominican Republic and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Stereo Dub to the rock 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Quantec,
MC5,
The New Christs,
Q and Not U,
Marine Girls,
John Coltrane,
Country Teasers,
Laurel Aitken,
Kurtis Blow,
The Music Machine,
Surgeon,
June of 44,
Ossler,
Warsaw,
Underground Resistance,
Franke,
The Five Americans,
The Leaves,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Gladiators,
Ice-T,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Chris Corsano,
Janne Schatter,
Wally Richardson,
the Human League,
Maurizio,
Sonic Youth,
Das Ding,
Popol Vuh,
Skaos,
Black Pus,
Bootsy Collins,
Roxette,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Oblivians,
X-Ray Spex,
The Monochrome Set,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Michelle Simonal,
Joy Division,
La Düsseldorf,
Johnny Osbourne,
Amon Düül,
The Evens,
Robert Hood,
Anakelly,
Echospace,
Urselle,
Rites of Spring,
Thee Headcoats,
Kerri Chandler,
Sister Nancy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eurythmics,
The Kinks,
Audionom,
Eric Copeland,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.