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 Burundi and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 John Foxx to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Radio Birdman,
Mars,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Hashim,
Make Up,
ABBA,
Interpol,
Franke,
Patti Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
Nils Olav,
A Certain Ratio,
Eden Ahbez,
The Trojans,
Cluster,
Quadrant,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dawn Penn,
Young Marble Giants,
Bad Manners,
Skarface,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Moody Blues,
The Saints,
Bill Wells,
Lucky Dragons,
Intrusion,
Funkadelic,
Outsiders,
Magma,
The Offenders,
Sällskapet,
Swans,
Maleditus Sound,
Robert Hood,
The Star Department,
Banda Bassotti,
Blossom Toes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kas Product,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marshall Jefferson,
World's Most,
Harpers Bizarre,
Connie Case,
Sun Ra,
JFA,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ten City,
Pere Ubu,
Index,
The Leaves,
Q and Not U,
T.S.O.L.,
The Evens,
The Sonics,
Neu!,
Lightning Bolt,
Joe Smooth,
Cheater Slicks,
Sight & Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Blake Baxter,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.