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 Gabon and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer 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 June of 44 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Derrick May,
Slick Rick,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nico,
Max Romeo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Visage,
Porter Ricks,
The Fortunes,
The Slits,
Graham Central Station,
Magma,
Skarface,
The Star Department,
UT,
Hasil Adkins,
Simply Red,
Second Layer,
Amazonics,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Names,
Essential Logic,
Delon & Dalcan,
Inner City,
E-Dancer,
Ten City,
The Durutti Column,
Faraquet,
Camberwell Now,
The Red Krayola,
The Searchers,
Severed Heads,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Terry Callier,
Crime,
Outsiders,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The United States of America,
Slave,
Vladislav Delay,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brothers Johnson,
Anakelly,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joensuu 1685,
Monolake,
Delta 5,
Grey Daturas,
10cc,
Albert Ayler,
The Beau Brummels,
Dark Day,
the Human League,
Sonic Youth,
Eurythmics,
The Gladiators,
Japan,
Ultravox,
The Black Dice,
Tears for Fears,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.