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 Zimbabwe and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ 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 The Fortunes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
The Velvet Underground,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Zeros,
The Modern Lovers,
Al Stewart,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Henry Cow,
The Busters,
Q65,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fluxion,
Bronski Beat,
Scrapy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Aural Exciters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wasted Youth,
Kerri Chandler,
Bootsy Collins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marc Almond,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lou Reed,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Darondo,
James White and The Blacks,
Crooked Eye,
Rakim,
The Cramps,
Monolake,
Jacques Brel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Livin' Joy,
Matthew Bourne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Swans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Hoover,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Music Machine,
Marine Girls,
Black Flag,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Warren Ellis,
Kaleidoscope,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Icehouse,
the Slits,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Soul II Soul,
Urselle,
Juan Atkins,
Saccharine Trust,
Drexciya,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Moon,
Babytalk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.