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 Mauritania and from Halifax.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Smiths to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
CMW,
Sound Behaviour,
The Evens,
Deadbeat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Modern Lovers,
Brothers Johnson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Swans,
Ice-T,
Sister Nancy,
Andrew Hill,
Ken Boothe,
New Age Steppers,
Scientists,
Tommy Roe,
Lungfish,
Model 500,
Neu!,
The Victims,
Talk Talk,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bluetip,
Harmonia,
Echospace,
Skaos,
Livin' Joy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pulsallama,
Main Source,
Jandek,
Mars,
Be Bop Deluxe,
D'Angelo,
Reuben Wilson,
Hardrive,
Eve St. Jones,
The Saints,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dual Sessions,
China Crisis,
Eric Copeland,
Ituana,
FM Einheit,
Roxette,
Peter & Gordon,
T.S.O.L.,
Urselle,
Pere Ubu,
Stockholm Monsters,
Althea and Donna,
Brand Nubian,
JFA,
Sandy B,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Cowsills,
Harry Pussy,
DJ Sneak,
The Wake,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.