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 Madagascar and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 Tears for Fears to the techno 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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Reagan Youth,
Cal Tjader,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lungfish,
Adolescents,
Tubeway Army,
Peter and Kerry,
Intrusion,
Eddi Front,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Funkadelic,
Severed Heads,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Spandau Ballet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-102,
The Durutti Column,
Kerri Chandler,
Brass Construction,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Tremeloes,
the Bar-Kays,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Circle Jerks,
Joensuu 1685,
The Last Poets,
Soul II Soul,
Television Personalities,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Funky Four + One,
Make Up,
Franke,
Soft Machine,
Yazoo,
X-101,
The Busters,
Grauzone,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gories,
Toni Rubio,
Oneida,
Crime,
Mad Mike,
The Monks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Motions,
Pagans,
Malaria!,
Alice Coltrane,
Jacques Brel,
Barry Ungar,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Camouflage,
Nick Fraelich,
Wasted Youth,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Cramps,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.