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 Ecuador and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dark Day to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
The Beau Brummels,
The Walker Brothers,
The Human League,
The Victims,
Deepchord,
Nick Fraelich,
Flipper,
Jerry Gold Smith,
cv313,
Nils Olav,
Tim Buckley,
The Mummies,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cal Tjader,
Robert Hood,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eric B and Rakim,
Slick Rick,
Zapp,
The Trojans,
Chris Corsano,
F. McDonald,
Newcleus,
Deakin,
Das Ding,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Judy Mowatt,
Bootsy Collins,
Dual Sessions,
Marine Girls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sällskapet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Moody Blues,
The Velvet Underground,
Barry Ungar,
LL Cool J,
The Raincoats,
The Tremeloes,
The Misunderstood,
Scrapy,
Althea and Donna,
Delta 5,
Yusef Lateef,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Invisible,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Howard Jones,
The Monks,
Black Flag,
Model 500,
Mr. Review,
Bobby Womack,
D'Angelo,
Soulsonic Force,
The Vogues,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.