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 Chad and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Spandau Ballet to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lalo Schifrin,
Model 500,
the Soft Cell,
Gang Green,
Rod Modell,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deadbeat,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobby Womack,
Ultravox,
Rakim,
Wire,
Arcadia,
Matthew Halsall,
The Move,
Oblivians,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Stooges,
Joe Finger,
The Mojo Men,
Essential Logic,
The Gun Club,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eden Ahbez,
The Velvet Underground,
The Pop Group,
Davy DMX,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Reagan Youth,
Roxette,
Wally Richardson,
The Searchers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ronnie Foster,
cv313,
Sex Pistols,
The J.B.'s,
Janne Schatter,
Jacques Brel,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Moon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Make Up,
Livin' Joy,
Black Flag,
Unrelated Segments,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crooked Eye,
The Monochrome Set,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Zero Boys,
Joe Smooth,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Selecter,
Joyce Sims,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Parry Music,
Second Layer,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.