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 Cape Verde and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Bobbi Humphrey 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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Crash Course in Science,
Skaos,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Black Pus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Peter and Kerry,
Schoolly D,
The Saints,
Ten City,
Andrew Hill,
Lalann,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Loose Ends,
New Age Steppers,
Sex Pistols,
Nico,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kenny Larkin,
Slick Rick,
Arab on Radar,
Cymande,
Eden Ahbez,
Nirvana,
Rekid,
The Move,
Rakim,
ABC,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fall,
Oneida,
Aloha Tigers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Procol Harum,
Brass Construction,
The Martian,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
Outsiders,
Ituana,
The Remains,
Black Moon,
Howard Jones,
Brand Nubian,
Davy DMX,
Los Fastidios,
The Associates,
Boredoms,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cure,
The Neon Judgement,
The Count Five,
Dave Gahan,
The Birthday Party,
Mandrill,
The Beau Brummels,
Chris & Cosey,
Matthew Bourne,
The Knickerbockers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Sheep,
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.