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 Belize and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Depeche Mode to the disco 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Matthew Halsall,
Hoover,
UT,
John Holt,
Bob Dylan,
Skaos,
Absolute Body Control,
Dead Boys,
Quando Quango,
Hashim,
Derrick Morgan,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Gang of Four,
Aloha Tigers,
Symarip,
The Selecter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
K-Klass,
Q65,
ABBA,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Sherman,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fluxion,
Heaven 17,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Durutti Column,
Nas,
Magazine,
Chris & Cosey,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Dead C,
This Heat,
John Coltrane,
June Days,
Morten Harket,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nils Olav,
Scan 7,
Carl Craig,
John Foxx,
Circle Jerks,
Banda Bassotti,
Yusef Lateef,
Severed Heads,
the Soft Cell,
Brand Nubian,
Pantytec,
Blancmange,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Buzzcocks,
FM Einheit,
Kenny Larkin,
Sight & Sound,
The Monochrome Set,
Hasil Adkins,
Jacob Miller,
Shoche,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.