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 Luxembourg and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Remains,
Outsiders,
China Crisis,
The Red Krayola,
The Busters,
Tears for Fears,
The Dead C,
Cymande,
Wire,
Make Up,
ABC,
Agent Orange,
Colin Newman,
New Order,
June of 44,
Fad Gadget,
Graham Central Station,
The Last Poets,
Smog,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ohio Players,
The Durutti Column,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry's Kids,
Q and Not U,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Faraquet,
F. McDonald,
The Angels of Light,
Moebius,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Whodini,
K-Klass,
Sarah Menescal,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bad Manners,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Laurel Aitken,
Infiniti,
Sixth Finger,
Unwound,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Vladislav Delay,
Mark Hollis,
Quantec,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dark Day,
Boz Scaggs,
Sun City Girls,
Absolute Body Control,
The Saints,
Lou Reed,
Bronski Beat,
Archie Shepp,
Skarface,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Guru Guru,
Skaos,
10cc,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.