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 Liechtenstein and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gun Club to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Soulsonic Force,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fortunes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Terry Callier,
the Soft Cell,
In Retrospect,
Ralphi Rosario,
Swans,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Dirtbombs,
Los Fastidios,
Wolf Eyes,
Eddi Front,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Motorama,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sister Nancy,
Spoonie Gee,
Peter & Gordon,
Excepter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marcia Griffiths,
Warren Ellis,
The Selecter,
Henry Cow,
Angry Samoans,
John Foxx,
Black Pus,
Gong,
Pere Ubu,
The Index,
Fatback Band,
Index,
AZ,
The Red Krayola,
The Vogues,
Susan Cadogan,
Lou Christie,
Sällskapet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dave Gahan,
Scion,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marvin Gaye,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blossom Toes,
The Slackers,
Essential Logic,
Arab on Radar,
Black Bananas,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soft Machine,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dead Boys,
The Motions,
Eric Copeland,
New Age Steppers,
Suburban Knight,
Zapp,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.