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 Burkina and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Arab on Radar to the grunge 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Joensuu 1685,
Gabor Szabo,
Theoretical Girls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Desert Stars,
Harry Pussy,
The Motions,
H. Thieme,
Laurel Aitken,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
New Age Steppers,
Reagan Youth,
Cecil Taylor,
Stockholm Monsters,
JFA,
Mission of Burma,
the Slits,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Standells,
48th St. Collective,
The Zeros,
10cc,
Delon & Dalcan,
Basic Channel,
The Toasters,
Rosa Yemen,
Roger Hodgson,
Second Layer,
Idris Muhammad,
Heaven 17,
F. McDonald,
Minnie Riperton,
Grauzone,
Depeche Mode,
Byron Stingily,
Jacob Miller,
Alton Ellis,
Von Mondo,
The Pop Group,
The Five Americans,
David Bowie,
Cal Tjader,
Mary Jane Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
Jandek,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eddi Front,
Scan 7,
Nirvana,
Lower 48,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cluster,
Dave Gahan,
Toni Rubio,
John Lydon,
Sister Nancy,
Wally Richardson,
Neil Young,
Monolake,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.