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 Angola and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Leaves to the techno 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Barrington Levy,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
Nico,
Average White Band,
The Zeros,
Ultra Naté,
Pylon,
Ituana,
The Doors,
John Lydon,
Judy Mowatt,
The Toasters,
Bobby Byrd,
Camberwell Now,
Dead Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
Boz Scaggs,
Black Moon,
Lou Reed,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Music Machine,
Nils Olav,
Peter and Kerry,
Curtis Mayfield,
Accadde A,
Theoretical Girls,
Sixth Finger,
Ludus,
Radiohead,
Dark Day,
Josef K,
The Dead C,
Yaz,
Grandmaster Flash,
Vladislav Delay,
The Human League,
Monolake,
The Searchers,
Procol Harum,
Oneida,
The Velvet Underground,
Echospace,
CMW,
Marine Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeff Mills,
Malaria!,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Juan Atkins,
Sister Nancy,
The Alarm Clocks,
New Order,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Aaron Thompson,
Cecil Taylor,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.