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 Brazil and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Monks to the grime 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
The Smiths,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scan 7,
Neil Young,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Michelle Simonal,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Negative Approach,
Urselle,
June of 44,
Yaz,
the Bar-Kays,
Scott Walker,
Pussy Galore,
Khruangbin,
H. Thieme,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harry Pussy,
Jacques Brel,
Gong,
Tears for Fears,
Jeff Lynne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rufus Thomas,
Sonic Youth,
La Düsseldorf,
R.M.O.,
Derrick Morgan,
A Certain Ratio,
OOIOO,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Flesh Eaters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Malaria!,
The New Christs,
New Order,
Sister Nancy,
Wire,
Adolescents,
Oblivians,
Gichy Dan,
Thee Headcoats,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fela Kuti,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Doobie Brothers,
Reuben Wilson,
Thompson Twins,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Alarm Clocks,
Inner City,
Josef K,
Qualms,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.