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 Netherlands and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 John Foxx to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
The Cramps,
Fela Kuti,
Lightning Bolt,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nas,
Iggy Pop,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Doors,
Ponytail,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Count Five,
Throbbing Gristle,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Donny Hathaway,
Bronski Beat,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Interpol,
Quando Quango,
Dorothy Ashby,
DJ Style,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roy Ayers,
The Motions,
Thee Headcoats,
Connie Case,
La Düsseldorf,
Organ,
Joey Negro,
Schoolly D,
Sexual Harrassment,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Procol Harum,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cecil Taylor,
The Electric Prunes,
The Trojans,
Hardrive,
Buzzcocks,
E-Dancer,
Bobby Sherman,
Piero Umiliani,
8 Eyed Spy,
Second Layer,
Ultra Naté,
Rapeman,
Flipper,
Sister Nancy,
Gang Starr,
Dave Gahan,
Judy Mowatt,
Man Parrish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Sheep,
Lungfish,
Aloha Tigers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ludus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.