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 Nepal and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bremen.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Modern Lovers to the disco 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
The Detroit Cobras,
Altered Images,
Eurythmics,
Bad Manners,
Fatback Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Silicon Teens,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crash Course in Science,
48th St. Collective,
The Mummies,
Black Sheep,
The Victims,
Subhumans,
T.S.O.L.,
The Durutti Column,
Tim Buckley,
Bob Dylan,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Zeros,
The Black Dice,
Rekid,
Symarip,
Lakeside,
The Moleskins,
kango's stein massive,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ten City,
Johnny Clarke,
The Selecter,
Malaria!,
Todd Terry,
Bill Near,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Angry Samoans,
Moebius,
The Motions,
Joyce Sims,
Henry Cow,
Suicide,
China Crisis,
Urselle,
Black Pus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nation of Ulysses,
David McCallum,
Archie Shepp,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fluxion,
La Düsseldorf,
Alice Coltrane,
Zapp,
Shuggie Otis,
Half Japanese,
Rod Modell,
Surgeon,
The Names,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lungfish,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Toasters,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.