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 Libya and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Clear Light to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Scan 7,
Skaos,
Kas Product,
Bad Manners,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bill Near,
Cameo,
Von Mondo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Magma,
Absolute Body Control,
Mo-Dettes,
Blossom Toes,
Brothers Johnson,
the Human League,
Sam Rivers,
The Saints,
The Residents,
Symarip,
The Stooges,
Ossler,
The Smiths,
Yusef Lateef,
Bluetip,
Audionom,
X-Ray Spex,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lalann,
Icehouse,
The Evens,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mission of Burma,
Vainqueur,
Tubeway Army,
The Trojans,
Shoche,
Echospace,
Bronski Beat,
Kaleidoscope,
Sixth Finger,
Derrick Morgan,
Mark Hollis,
Fatback Band,
Angry Samoans,
Minutemen,
Kayak,
The Modern Lovers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cybotron,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ultra Naté,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Happenings,
Stetsasonic,
Ronan,
Lou Christie,
The Monochrome Set,
Interpol,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.