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 Nigeria and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 E-Dancer to the electroclash 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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeff Lynne,
Fear,
OOIOO,
Main Source,
Reuben Wilson,
The Buckinghams,
Todd Terry,
Quadrant,
Qualms,
The Fortunes,
T.S.O.L.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Infiniti,
Desert Stars,
Harmonia,
The Five Americans,
Dave Gahan,
U.S. Maple,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Warsaw,
Rapeman,
Yellowson,
The Music Machine,
Brick,
Terry Callier,
Sparks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Youth Brigade,
Fela Kuti,
Rakim,
Ituana,
Theoretical Girls,
Motorama,
Tommy Roe,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Joy Division,
Dead Boys,
Joensuu 1685,
The Cure,
Soft Machine,
Depeche Mode,
Black Flag,
Rekid,
Newcleus,
Skriet,
Anakelly,
The Trojans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Organ,
The Blues Magoos,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Tremeloes,
The Dave Clark Five,
UT,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Television,
Lindisfarne,
Derrick May,
Michelle Simonal,
Ludus,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.