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 Latvia and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the grunge 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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Depeche Mode,
The Moleskins,
DNA,
Minny Pops,
Marine Girls,
Piero Umiliani,
Hoover,
Skaos,
Spandau Ballet,
Johnny Clarke,
Sun Ra,
Eve St. Jones,
Altered Images,
T.S.O.L.,
Matthew Halsall,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tomorrow,
The Black Dice,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Arab on Radar,
Trumans Water,
The Birthday Party,
Au Pairs,
Brick,
Mandrill,
U.S. Maple,
Tom Boy,
Lakeside,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Silicon Teens,
The American Breed,
Popol Vuh,
The Dead C,
Quadrant,
Laurel Aitken,
La Düsseldorf,
Jacob Miller,
Howard Jones,
Ponytail,
Archie Shepp,
Excepter,
Maleditus Sound,
June of 44,
Byron Stingily,
Judy Mowatt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
X-102,
Camberwell Now,
DJ Style,
Darondo,
Inner City,
Guru Guru,
Charles Mingus,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scott Walker,
The Tremeloes,
Ossler,
Davy DMX,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kerri Chandler,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ice-T,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.