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 Portugal and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin 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 Stetsasonic to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
The Modern Lovers,
the Normal,
The Vogues,
The Knickerbockers,
The Smiths,
Ornette Coleman,
Avey Tare,
The Star Department,
Jacques Brel,
The Detroit Cobras,
The J.B.'s,
Hot Snakes,
Althea and Donna,
Massinfluence,
Mark Hollis,
Con Funk Shun,
Trumans Water,
Quantec,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hardrive,
Organ,
Excepter,
the Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
Thee Headcoats,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Martian,
Shuggie Otis,
Royal Trux,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marcia Griffiths,
Arthur Verocai,
The Seeds,
Maurizio,
Nik Kershaw,
Monks,
Slick Rick,
Grauzone,
Minor Threat,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cybotron,
Grey Daturas,
Freddie Wadling,
B.T. Express,
Roy Ayers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Residents,
The Young Rascals,
Radiopuhelimet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tomorrow,
Howard Jones,
Sun City Girls,
Tim Buckley,
Roxy Music,
The Wake,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.