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 Samoa and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin 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 World's Most to the dance 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
The Fire Engines,
Black Bananas,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Todd Rundgren,
DJ Style,
Eric Copeland,
E-Dancer,
Rekid,
Metal Thangz,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Dirtbombs,
The Residents,
Soul Sonic Force,
Don Cherry,
Sister Nancy,
Shoche,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Fugazi,
Motorama,
Vainqueur,
Jeff Lynne,
Wolf Eyes,
Absolute Body Control,
Sonny Sharrock,
Slave,
FM Einheit,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Quando Quango,
Gang of Four,
Talk Talk,
Qualms,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radio Birdman,
The Velvet Underground,
the Association,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jesper Dahlback,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Howard Jones,
Zapp,
Robert Hood,
Pussy Galore,
Index,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lucky Dragons,
Davy DMX,
The Blackbyrds,
F. McDonald,
Japan,
Cluster,
Anakelly,
Peter and Kerry,
Easy Going,
Agent Orange,
Joensuu 1685,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
H. Thieme,
the Normal,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.