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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 sitar 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 The Tremeloes to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
The Names,
Don Cherry,
Connie Case,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
AZ,
Dave Gahan,
The Martian,
Kenny Larkin,
Marc Almond,
Dennis Brown,
Marvin Gaye,
Sam Rivers,
CMW,
the Sonics,
Todd Terry,
Kurtis Blow,
Severed Heads,
Drexciya,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rapeman,
Minutemen,
The Sound,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Boredoms,
Black Pus,
Grauzone,
PIL,
Idris Muhammad,
Unwound,
Lou Reed,
Hashim,
Fela Kuti,
Marcia Griffiths,
Piero Umiliani,
The Fall,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Derrick May,
Wasted Youth,
Absolute Body Control,
Nils Olav,
Matthew Bourne,
Bootsy Collins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Essential Logic,
Scan 7,
Cybotron,
Crash Course in Science,
Silicon Teens,
Hasil Adkins,
The Cramps,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Sheep,
The Dave Clark Five,
Interpol,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Modern Lovers,
Easy Going,
Buzzcocks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sparks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.