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 Equatorial Guinea and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 mellotron 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 10cc to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
the Swans,
Chris Corsano,
Peter and Kerry,
Rod Modell,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Black Bananas,
The Red Krayola,
David Bowie,
Swell Maps,
Amon Düül,
Alison Limerick,
Nas,
Popol Vuh,
Thompson Twins,
Bronski Beat,
Lyres,
Angry Samoans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Charles Mingus,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crime,
Basic Channel,
The Cure,
The Human League,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fuzztones,
Aaron Thompson,
Echospace,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Velvet Underground,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Maurizio,
Circle Jerks,
The Busters,
Smog,
The Buckinghams,
Flash Fearless,
Tom Boy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dead Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Moleskins,
The Associates,
The Count Five,
DNA,
The Cowsills,
Outsiders,
Howard Jones,
Kenny Larkin,
X-101,
Fatback Band,
Bush Tetras,
The Toasters,
Andrew Hill,
Don Cherry,
Franke,
Ultravox,
Stereo Dub,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.