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 Bolivia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron 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 Porter Ricks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Human League,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sex Pistols,
Excepter,
Cymande,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Walker Brothers,
Reuben Wilson,
Harry Pussy,
Maleditus Sound,
Erykah Badu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
a-ha,
The Residents,
The Last Poets,
Joensuu 1685,
Pantytec,
Josef K,
Sonic Youth,
Skaos,
Alton Ellis,
Janne Schatter,
Ituana,
KRS-One,
One Last Wish,
OOIOO,
The Fall,
The Star Department,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Cure,
The Cramps,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Saints,
Cluster,
Visage,
Slave,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Motions,
The Smoke,
Mr. Review,
Sandy B,
Second Layer,
Man Parrish,
H. Thieme,
Smog,
Gang Green,
Surgeon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Grass Roots,
The Leaves,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
New Order,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ohio Players,
The Gun Club,
The Misunderstood,
Steve Hackett,
Kerri Chandler,
Electric Prunes,
Con Funk Shun,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.