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 Botswana and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Angry Samoans to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Popol Vuh,
Bob Dylan,
Glenn Branca,
The Misunderstood,
Rod Modell,
Sister Nancy,
Tommy Roe,
Radiohead,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ken Boothe,
Absolute Body Control,
Skaos,
Black Sheep,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sound Behaviour,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Qualms,
Brothers Johnson,
Brass Construction,
The Motions,
Nik Kershaw,
The Smiths,
Arab on Radar,
The Angels of Light,
The Moody Blues,
The Tremeloes,
The Beau Brummels,
Scion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Thee Headcoats,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Newcleus,
The Golliwogs,
F. McDonald,
Grandmaster Flash,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fear,
Scott Walker,
This Heat,
Grauzone,
Lucky Dragons,
Al Stewart,
Depeche Mode,
The Electric Prunes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Niagra,
Joy Division,
Quadrant,
The Wake,
Harry Pussy,
Matthew Halsall,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thompson Twins,
Subhumans,
Surgeon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.