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 Turkey and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Crispian St. Peters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kas Product,
The Wake,
Sparks,
Skriet,
The Fugs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Delta 5,
Fela Kuti,
Janne Schatter,
Bauhaus,
Steve Hackett,
Loose Ends,
The Smoke,
The Durutti Column,
Blake Baxter,
Sun Ra,
LL Cool J,
Nik Kershaw,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Absolute Body Control,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chrome,
Marmalade,
Scan 7,
R.M.O.,
China Crisis,
The United States of America,
The Sonics,
Jeff Mills,
Spoonie Gee,
The Five Americans,
Godley & Creme,
T.S.O.L.,
Connie Case,
Amazonics,
Jandek,
OOIOO,
Quadrant,
Dead Boys,
kango's stein massive,
Hardrive,
Rod Modell,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soulsonic Force,
Unrelated Segments,
Dave Gahan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Josef K,
Neil Young,
Suicide,
UT,
John Foxx,
Skaos,
Pylon,
Sight & Sound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Christie,
Eli Mardock,
The Moody Blues,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.