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 Afghanistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Neon Judgement to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
The J.B.'s,
The Sound,
The Fuzztones,
The Offenders,
Fat Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sällskapet,
Bizarre Inc.,
Surgeon,
DNA,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Whodini,
Scientists,
The Names,
Lou Christie,
Ice-T,
Faust,
Bob Dylan,
Isaac Hayes,
Jeff Lynne,
Nik Kershaw,
Crooked Eye,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Human League,
Moby Grape,
Pere Ubu,
Accadde A,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nils Olav,
Sugar Minott,
Byron Stingily,
Slave,
Minnie Riperton,
X-Ray Spex,
cv313,
The Durutti Column,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Warren Ellis,
Sonic Youth,
Eve St. Jones,
Swans,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Womack,
Amazonics,
The Birthday Party,
China Crisis,
Organ,
K-Klass,
Cluster,
Joensuu 1685,
Urselle,
Scion,
Von Mondo,
Eric Dolphy,
The Buckinghams,
Quando Quango,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Evens,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.