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 Madagascar and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Jeff Lynne to the jazz 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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Human League,
Hasil Adkins,
Vladislav Delay,
Andrew Hill,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marmalade,
The Litter,
Aaron Thompson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rakim,
AZ,
Stereo Dub,
Todd Rundgren,
Von Mondo,
Matthew Bourne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Alison Limerick,
a-ha,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Iggy Pop,
Kenny Larkin,
John Holt,
China Crisis,
Flamin' Groovies,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lou Christie,
The Sound,
Index,
Cymande,
Nik Kershaw,
Camberwell Now,
Pierre Henry,
Harpers Bizarre,
Swans,
The Busters,
the Slits,
Ohio Players,
The Gories,
Malaria!,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Byrd,
June Days,
The Vogues,
Icehouse,
David Bowie,
Oneida,
Sandy B,
Barrington Levy,
Man Parrish,
Ultravox,
Q and Not U,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Silicon Teens,
Faust,
Henry Cow,
The Gladiators,
Magma,
Sonic Youth,
Rapeman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.