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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar 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 PIL to the rap 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Mad Mike,
Schoolly D,
Q65,
JFA,
Kurtis Blow,
Metal Thangz,
Deakin,
Michelle Simonal,
L. Decosne,
Black Sheep,
Wally Richardson,
10cc,
Maleditus Sound,
Circle Jerks,
Eric Dolphy,
Marvin Gaye,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Depeche Mode,
Marmalade,
AZ,
Sun City Girls,
Au Pairs,
Q and Not U,
Bootsy Collins,
Con Funk Shun,
Scan 7,
Tomorrow,
Slave,
Henry Cow,
Janne Schatter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
La Düsseldorf,
Wolf Eyes,
Cheater Slicks,
Boz Scaggs,
Ronnie Foster,
Steve Hackett,
The Shadows of Knight,
Terry Callier,
Supertramp,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Television,
The Cramps,
Harry Pussy,
Brick,
Deepchord,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Johnny Osbourne,
Model 500,
Crispy Ambulance,
PIL,
Roxette,
Dead Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Names,
Wire,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.