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 Swaziland and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Dave Gahan to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Bootsy Collins,
Eddi Front,
Nico,
Black Pus,
Massinfluence,
Gichy Dan,
Japan,
The Knickerbockers,
Los Fastidios,
Simply Red,
Rotary Connection,
Andrew Hill,
Boz Scaggs,
U.S. Maple,
John Foxx,
The Martian,
Grandmaster Flash,
Procol Harum,
Patti Smith,
The Dave Clark Five,
Scott Walker,
The Five Americans,
Byron Stingily,
Tears for Fears,
Pere Ubu,
Brick,
Jacob Miller,
Steve Hackett,
Ultravox,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Visage,
Gang Starr,
T. Rex,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Spandau Ballet,
Tres Demented,
Half Japanese,
Graham Central Station,
a-ha,
Soft Cell,
Negative Approach,
kango's stein massive,
Theoretical Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Delta 5,
Can,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Normal,
Sight & Sound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lakeside,
T.S.O.L.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Model 500,
June of 44,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fear,
KRS-One,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.