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 Bolivia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys 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 jazz 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
The Kinks,
Niagra,
Malaria!,
Steve Hackett,
The Neon Judgement,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Young Rascals,
The New Christs,
Lungfish,
Morten Harket,
Johnny Clarke,
Stetsasonic,
Mars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kurtis Blow,
Roxy Music,
The Happenings,
The Alarm Clocks,
UT,
John Foxx,
James White and The Blacks,
The Moleskins,
Smog,
Duran Duran,
Brothers Johnson,
Erasure,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Wasted Youth,
kango's stein massive,
Public Enemy,
Chris & Cosey,
Hot Snakes,
The Doors,
Oblivians,
Lower 48,
Chrome,
Matthew Bourne,
The Slackers,
Jandek,
Grauzone,
Wally Richardson,
Index,
Banda Bassotti,
Arab on Radar,
LL Cool J,
Subhumans,
Marmalade,
The Remains,
Don Cherry,
Talk Talk,
The J.B.'s,
Model 500,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Slave,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Althea and Donna,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Tremeloes,
Radiopuhelimet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Shuggie Otis,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.