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 Indonesia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Little Man to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Aloha Tigers,
Juan Atkins,
Don Cherry,
Robert Görl,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
LL Cool J,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Drexciya,
Desert Stars,
Mission of Burma,
Donald Byrd,
Crash Course in Science,
Cecil Taylor,
Can,
Lalann,
Liliput,
The Names,
Moby Grape,
Moebius,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Moon,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Sheep,
Pulsallama,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cameo,
Basic Channel,
the Slits,
Todd Terry,
Underground Resistance,
Au Pairs,
Oneida,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Saints,
Kevin Saunderson,
Porter Ricks,
Symarip,
Sam Rivers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Popol Vuh,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kas Product,
Tom Boy,
The American Breed,
The Modern Lovers,
Skarface,
Cluster,
Schoolly D,
Dead Boys,
cv313,
Ultravox,
Sound Behaviour,
Ronan,
T. Rex,
David McCallum,
The Smiths,
Drive Like Jehu,
Television Personalities,
Spandau Ballet,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.