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 Solomon Islands and from Columbus.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the crunk 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Alison Limerick,
The Count Five,
Yellowson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultravox,
Fela Kuti,
The Fuzztones,
Matthew Halsall,
the Association,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eden Ahbez,
Babytalk,
Gang Green,
Grauzone,
Jacques Brel,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Suburban Knight,
Tim Buckley,
Guru Guru,
Quadrant,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eric B and Rakim,
Soulsonic Force,
Rapeman,
10cc,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pylon,
Danielle Patucci,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Red Krayola,
Bauhaus,
Aloha Tigers,
Easy Going,
Camberwell Now,
The Gories,
T.S.O.L.,
Rufus Thomas,
Mr. Review,
Niagra,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bill Wells,
Tropical Tobacco,
Patti Smith,
The Associates,
Jeff Mills,
Barrington Levy,
Talk Talk,
Harmonia,
Japan,
MDC,
Leonard Cohen,
The Sonics,
ABBA,
Technova,
Audionom,
UT,
Lakeside,
Yaz,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.