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 Monaco and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 The Cure 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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Piero Umiliani,
a-ha,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Durutti Column,
The Seeds,
The Fugs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alison Limerick,
John Lydon,
Barry Ungar,
The Names,
Matthew Halsall,
John Cale,
Scratch Acid,
Television Personalities,
Quadrant,
The Residents,
The Flesh Eaters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Delon & Dalcan,
Organ,
Ultra Naté,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
F. McDonald,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eden Ahbez,
kango's stein massive,
Eddi Front,
The Golliwogs,
DJ Style,
Outsiders,
Scion,
Faraquet,
Interpol,
Eric Dolphy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Albert Ayler,
Cecil Taylor,
Lyres,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Toasters,
Fela Kuti,
Sam Rivers,
Marmalade,
The J.B.'s,
The Leaves,
Duran Duran,
K-Klass,
Tommy Roe,
Lower 48,
Connie Case,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
This Heat,
FM Einheit,
Derrick May,
The Cowsills,
MC5,
Junior Murvin,
Liliput,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.