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 Dominica and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 The Young Rascals to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Spandau Ballet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Prince Buster,
Theoretical Girls,
Ten City,
Faraquet,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Das Ding,
Piero Umiliani,
Au Pairs,
Brass Construction,
The Wake,
Franke,
Don Cherry,
Fatback Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Depeche Mode,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gladiators,
The New Christs,
Suburban Knight,
Letta Mbulu,
Gong,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Blake Baxter,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sparks,
B.T. Express,
The Busters,
Alphaville,
Sandy B,
Lucky Dragons,
Erasure,
Severed Heads,
Scion,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Residents,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Y Pants,
Joyce Sims,
the Human League,
Hashim,
Glambeats Corp.,
Japan,
Terry Callier,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blancmange,
Kaleidoscope,
La Düsseldorf,
Underground Resistance,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dawn Penn,
Guru Guru,
China Crisis,
Andrew Hill,
Talk Talk,
Symarip,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.