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 Syria and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin 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 James White and The Blacks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Loose Ends record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Slackers,
The Five Americans,
Infiniti,
Althea and Donna,
Lindisfarne,
Donald Byrd,
Maurizio,
Camberwell Now,
K-Klass,
Darondo,
Anakelly,
Reuben Wilson,
KRS-One,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rakim,
The New Christs,
Bronski Beat,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wings,
Sight & Sound,
Zero Boys,
Spoonie Gee,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Simply Red,
Bill Wells,
Icehouse,
Boredoms,
The Star Department,
Rufus Thomas,
Camouflage,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eden Ahbez,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grey Daturas,
The Standells,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Saccharine Trust,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tommy Roe,
Model 500,
Angry Samoans,
Lakeside,
Unwound,
Maleditus Sound,
Michelle Simonal,
Arthur Verocai,
Neu!,
Black Sheep,
Kool Moe Dee,
Amon Düül II,
Television,
Marine Girls,
Black Flag,
Sällskapet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lucky Dragons,
The Beau Brummels,
Lee Hazlewood,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.