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 Luxembourg and from London.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Malaria! to the grime 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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Interpol,
Accadde A,
Smog,
Organ,
48th St. Collective,
Nils Olav,
Underground Resistance,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Erasure,
Matthew Bourne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kurtis Blow,
Jacques Brel,
Groovy Waters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lakeside,
Reagan Youth,
Charles Mingus,
Absolute Body Control,
Tears for Fears,
Siglo XX,
Y Pants,
Whodini,
The Busters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Man Parrish,
The New Christs,
Faust,
Peter & Gordon,
Eddi Front,
Essential Logic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Oblivians,
Curtis Mayfield,
Quantec,
Skriet,
Derrick Morgan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Aural Exciters,
The Doors,
Crime,
Gregory Isaacs,
Franke,
Rapeman,
Fugazi,
The J.B.'s,
The Litter,
Rufus Thomas,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joe Smooth,
The Fire Engines,
The Skatalites,
Peter and Kerry,
Tom Boy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Index,
Godley & Creme,
The Techniques,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.