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 Kuwait and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet 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 Pet Shop Boys to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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?
James White and The Blacks,
Laurel Aitken,
Mandrill,
The Beau Brummels,
Fort Wilson Riot,
La Düsseldorf,
Bad Manners,
Black Moon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Matthew Halsall,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Skarface,
Ten City,
Second Layer,
Livin' Joy,
Derrick May,
Tres Demented,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Althea and Donna,
H. Thieme,
This Heat,
X-Ray Spex,
Parry Music,
Urselle,
Monolake,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Doobie Brothers,
Absolute Body Control,
Sixth Finger,
Barry Ungar,
Bill Wells,
The Monks,
Carl Craig,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Angels of Light,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marmalade,
Neu!,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dark Day,
Joe Smooth,
The New Christs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jawbox,
Bauhaus,
Man Parrish,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Morten Harket,
Toni Rubio,
Hasil Adkins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ohio Players,
Minor Threat,
Radiohead,
Tears for Fears,
Sandy B,
the Human League,
The Vogues,
Dead Boys,
The Mojo Men,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.