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 Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Roxette to the techno 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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nico,
Alphaville,
Stereo Dub,
Amon Düül II,
Rakim,
Pantytec,
Talk Talk,
Mantronix,
Fear,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Albert Ayler,
Robert Wyatt,
Sällskapet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Beau Brummels,
Sex Pistols,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nik Kershaw,
Peter and Kerry,
The Gap Band,
Godley & Creme,
Wire,
Mad Mike,
Interpol,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joe Smooth,
Janne Schatter,
Buzzcocks,
Joey Negro,
The Fugs,
Rosa Yemen,
Simply Red,
Agitation Free,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Soft Cell,
Chrome,
Bob Dylan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bill Near,
Donald Byrd,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ultra Naté,
The Leaves,
Public Image Ltd.,
John Foxx,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deepchord,
Spandau Ballet,
Nick Fraelich,
Brick,
Black Pus,
PIL,
The Litter,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.