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 Ukraine and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 New Christs to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Depeche Mode,
Livin' Joy,
Charles Mingus,
Clear Light,
Scientists,
Eli Mardock,
Drexciya,
Black Bananas,
Roger Hodgson,
Dave Gahan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roy Ayers,
Kenny Larkin,
Dead Boys,
David Bowie,
Davy DMX,
La Düsseldorf,
Los Fastidios,
Man Eating Sloth,
Blancmange,
The Fire Engines,
Archie Shepp,
Big Daddy Kane,
Oblivians,
The Trojans,
Outsiders,
Mad Mike,
Faust,
The Skatalites,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Maleditus Sound,
Wally Richardson,
Sister Nancy,
Joe Smooth,
Angry Samoans,
China Crisis,
Lakeside,
Eurythmics,
F. McDonald,
Lightning Bolt,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sam Rivers,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Move,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Happenings,
The Beau Brummels,
Alphaville,
Joensuu 1685,
Sarah Menescal,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Visage,
Ronan,
Joey Negro,
John Lydon,
Brand Nubian,
Lalann,
Monks,
Bobby Sherman,
Pulsallama,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.