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 Latvia and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ultravox to the funk 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Erykah Badu,
Harry Pussy,
Crispian St. Peters,
China Crisis,
The Walker Brothers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Spandau Ballet,
Henry Cow,
Derrick May,
John Cale,
Grauzone,
Mantronix,
PIL,
John Lydon,
Gang Green,
Peter & Gordon,
The J.B.'s,
The Standells,
Nik Kershaw,
Ultra Naté,
Lindisfarne,
The Move,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cal Tjader,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Moon,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Happenings,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lyres,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Radiopuhelimet,
Country Teasers,
The Music Machine,
Moss Icon,
Patti Smith,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Bar-Kays,
Oneida,
Maurizio,
Mad Mike,
Danielle Patucci,
Excepter,
Wings,
Little Man,
Quando Quango,
Aswad,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Juan Atkins,
Mark Hollis,
Morten Harket,
Talk Talk,
Zero Boys,
Kenny Larkin,
Crime,
Dead Boys,
Intrusion,
MDC,
ABC,
Ten City,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.