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 Tunisia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Grey Daturas to the rap 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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dead Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
Ronnie Foster,
Absolute Body Control,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Yellowson,
The Doors,
Spandau Ballet,
Reuben Wilson,
Mo-Dettes,
Alison Limerick,
Aswad,
Monolake,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Animal Collective,
Janne Schatter,
The Remains,
CMW,
The Offenders,
X-101,
Sixth Finger,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lindisfarne,
Warren Ellis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
KRS-One,
Soft Cell,
Brothers Johnson,
T. Rex,
cv313,
Technova,
Amon Düül II,
Boogie Down Productions,
Roy Ayers,
Heaven 17,
Flipper,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jacques Brel,
the Sonics,
Smog,
MDC,
Inner City,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sonny Sharrock,
Johnny Osbourne,
Colin Newman,
Moby Grape,
The Gories,
Grandmaster Flash,
Yazoo,
The Blues Magoos,
Minny Pops,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Starr,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Au Pairs,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.