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 Montenegro and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet 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 The Music Machine to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pantytec,
The Vogues,
T. Rex,
A Certain Ratio,
Chrome,
Henry Cow,
Alphaville,
MC5,
Ornette Coleman,
Television Personalities,
Malaria!,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mission of Burma,
Metal Thangz,
David McCallum,
Mr. Review,
Lalo Schifrin,
Funkadelic,
June of 44,
Morten Harket,
Johnny Clarke,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The United States of America,
The Dead C,
Radiohead,
Jerry's Kids,
Ken Boothe,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Clear Light,
Section 25,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Stooges,
Brand Nubian,
X-102,
Kaleidoscope,
kango's stein massive,
Deepchord,
Chris & Cosey,
D'Angelo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yazoo,
The Cramps,
Barbara Tucker,
Frankie Knuckles,
Simply Red,
Sandy B,
Fat Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
Black Sheep,
Scientists,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Josef K,
Soft Machine,
Sun Ra,
Scott Walker,
Pere Ubu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.