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 United States and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 F. McDonald to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
The Vogues,
Althea and Donna,
kango's stein massive,
Silicon Teens,
Pussy Galore,
Steve Hackett,
The Index,
X-101,
Public Enemy,
Vladislav Delay,
Second Layer,
Deepchord,
Man Eating Sloth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
James White and The Blacks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Youth Brigade,
Bad Manners,
The Cowsills,
These Immortal Souls,
Fluxion,
The Leaves,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Sherman,
Accadde A,
Subhumans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Bar-Kays,
Eric Copeland,
The Beau Brummels,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Junior Murvin,
Frankie Knuckles,
Talk Talk,
Monks,
Jacques Brel,
Zapp,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Schoolly D,
Mars,
Heaven 17,
Whodini,
Michelle Simonal,
The Monks,
Tomorrow,
Rites of Spring,
Tom Boy,
the Soft Cell,
Marmalade,
The Move,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
H. Thieme,
MDC,
Soul II Soul,
Soft Machine,
The Pop Group,
Spoonie Gee,
CMW,
B.T. Express,
Section 25,
The Standells,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.