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 Pakistan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 rap 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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
One Last Wish,
Angry Samoans,
The Index,
The Fuzztones,
Talk Talk,
The Stooges,
Das Ding,
the Slits,
Sam Rivers,
Crooked Eye,
The Real Kids,
Stereo Dub,
Sister Nancy,
Jawbox,
Aaron Thompson,
Howard Jones,
Roxy Music,
Average White Band,
Stiv Bators,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Smiths,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pylon,
10cc,
Erykah Badu,
the Swans,
Yellowson,
Freddie Wadling,
Gang Green,
Livin' Joy,
The Electric Prunes,
the Germs,
Kerri Chandler,
Delta 5,
Blake Baxter,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Spoonie Gee,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Charles Mingus,
Matthew Bourne,
Fat Boys,
Byron Stingily,
Blossom Toes,
D'Angelo,
Terry Callier,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Stetsasonic,
Index,
A Certain Ratio,
The Modern Lovers,
Y Pants,
Eddi Front,
The Dirtbombs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Groovy Waters,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Seeds,
The Invisible,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.