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 Chile and from London.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 Bronski Beat to the electroclash 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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Aaron Thompson,
Brothers Johnson,
The Motions,
Clear Light,
Sandy B,
Section 25,
New Order,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wasted Youth,
Eric Copeland,
Groovy Waters,
The Electric Prunes,
the Swans,
Los Fastidios,
The Associates,
Stereo Dub,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Bananas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lakeside,
Bill Wells,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vainqueur,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Sherman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dave Gahan,
Ossler,
Banda Bassotti,
L. Decosne,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Standells,
Chris Corsano,
Nik Kershaw,
Bluetip,
Soulsonic Force,
Gichy Dan,
Hardrive,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Dead C,
Ponytail,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Guru Guru,
Jacob Miller,
Amazonics,
Wings,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Zero Boys,
The Angels of Light,
Amon Düül,
Fad Gadget,
Grey Daturas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Durutti Column,
Amon Düül II,
Dorothy Ashby,
10cc,
Y Pants,
Bobby Womack,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.