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 St Lucia and from Glasgow.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar 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 Niagra to the rock 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Arcadia,
Basic Channel,
Stetsasonic,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Normal,
Peter & Gordon,
U.S. Maple,
Idris Muhammad,
Johnny Clarke,
Derrick May,
Deadbeat,
Camouflage,
Niagra,
Fat Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wally Richardson,
John Lydon,
Infiniti,
John Holt,
Aural Exciters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Livin' Joy,
Lalann,
The Gun Club,
Fear,
Jacques Brel,
Maleditus Sound,
Blake Baxter,
Thompson Twins,
Symarip,
The Evens,
Sixth Finger,
In Retrospect,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lungfish,
AZ,
Eric Dolphy,
Silicon Teens,
Severed Heads,
The Mummies,
Average White Band,
The Misunderstood,
The Smoke,
The Alarm Clocks,
Brass Construction,
Desert Stars,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Spoonie Gee,
Lucky Dragons,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
La Düsseldorf,
Black Flag,
Sparks,
Mark Hollis,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.