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 Zimbabwe and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chrome,
Silicon Teens,
Mo-Dettes,
Skaos,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New Order,
Brick,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dennis Brown,
Malaria!,
Brothers Johnson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Goldenarms,
Hoover,
the Human League,
Little Man,
Maurizio,
Moebius,
Fort Wilson Riot,
R.M.O.,
Donald Byrd,
The Divine Comedy,
AZ,
Pulsallama,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jeff Lynne,
Monolake,
Animal Collective,
Franke,
The Young Rascals,
Black Pus,
Absolute Body Control,
Buzzcocks,
The Kinks,
The Dead C,
Harry Pussy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Can,
Erykah Badu,
Susan Cadogan,
The Blackbyrds,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Busters,
Gang of Four,
Country Teasers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Swans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
EPMD,
Quando Quango,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Monks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Al Stewart,
Model 500,
The Cure,
Severed Heads,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.