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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ultravox to the disco 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Oblivians,
Index,
the Soft Cell,
Scratch Acid,
Siglo XX,
The Smiths,
The Slits,
Unrelated Segments,
The Dead C,
The Techniques,
Joey Negro,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Donald Byrd,
Scion,
Accadde A,
Silicon Teens,
The Barracudas,
Vladislav Delay,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Little Man,
Roy Ayers,
ABC,
The Young Rascals,
Moby Grape,
X-102,
Marc Almond,
The Invisible,
Gang of Four,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Monochrome Set,
James White and The Blacks,
the Human League,
Freddie Wadling,
Pagans,
DNA,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Can,
Chris Corsano,
Adolescents,
Cheater Slicks,
Tears for Fears,
Cal Tjader,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sight & Sound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hot Snakes,
Stiv Bators,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
OOIOO,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Busters,
PIL,
Hashim,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.