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 Sierra Leone and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Maurizio to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Popol Vuh,
David Bowie,
The Residents,
Moby Grape,
Youth Brigade,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Icehouse,
Eddi Front,
the Soft Cell,
Procol Harum,
Mars,
Cymande,
The Slits,
Stiv Bators,
Hardrive,
Fluxion,
Tommy Roe,
Ituana,
Tim Buckley,
Sound Behaviour,
Faust,
FM Einheit,
James White and The Blacks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rotary Connection,
The Techniques,
New York Dolls,
The Selecter,
Nik Kershaw,
Shoche,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Brothers Johnson,
Scion,
Black Moon,
Wire,
Pagans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Agent Orange,
the Slits,
Smog,
Rekid,
The Slackers,
Infiniti,
John Holt,
La Düsseldorf,
Tres Demented,
Matthew Halsall,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Arab on Radar,
Grauzone,
The Wake,
Joey Negro,
The Golliwogs,
Nico,
Soulsonic Force,
Godley & Creme,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.