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 Belgium 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb 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 The Smoke to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Ice-T,
Eurythmics,
Eve St. Jones,
Fat Boys,
The Cramps,
Porter Ricks,
Con Funk Shun,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jimmy McGriff,
One Last Wish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Absolute Body Control,
Stiv Bators,
Deakin,
Terry Callier,
The Names,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ralphi Rosario,
L. Decosne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nick Fraelich,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sällskapet,
Marc Almond,
F. McDonald,
David Axelrod,
Newcleus,
Kool Moe Dee,
Junior Murvin,
Pere Ubu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Skatalites,
MC5,
The Residents,
The Star Department,
Swell Maps,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minor Threat,
Mars,
Sly & The Family Stone,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sarah Menescal,
a-ha,
Slick Rick,
New Order,
The Techniques,
Fela Kuti,
Patti Smith,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
June Days,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Man Parrish,
Shuggie Otis,
Soulsonic Force,
Qualms,
Blancmange,
The Vogues,
The Birthday Party,
Soft Cell,
ABC,
Bronski Beat,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.