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 Tonga and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Robert Hood to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
China Crisis,
Thee Headcoats,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Donny Hathaway,
10cc,
Niagra,
Das Ding,
Magazine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Icehouse,
Soulsonic Force,
Spoonie Gee,
Thompson Twins,
Roger Hodgson,
The Associates,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Matthew Bourne,
Tomorrow,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Isaac Hayes,
UT,
Man Eating Sloth,
Trumans Water,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jeff Mills,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eve St. Jones,
cv313,
Tom Boy,
a-ha,
Loose Ends,
Marc Almond,
Nas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ronan,
Scott Walker,
Deepchord,
X-101,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Al Stewart,
The Gories,
Harmonia,
8 Eyed Spy,
Robert Hood,
John Lydon,
The Toasters,
New York Dolls,
The Mummies,
Yaz,
Section 25,
Stockholm Monsters,
Shoche,
Bootsy Collins,
Barry Ungar,
Albert Ayler,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Grandmaster Flash,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Piero Umiliani,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Offenders,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.