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 Portugal 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord 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 The Fire Engines 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Godley & Creme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Barrington Levy,
Cameo,
Fela Kuti,
Big Daddy Kane,
Oblivians,
Pere Ubu,
Scratch Acid,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Banda Bassotti,
Fluxion,
MDC,
Maleditus Sound,
Terry Callier,
Radiohead,
Loose Ends,
Lungfish,
Scott Walker,
David Axelrod,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joensuu 1685,
The Blackbyrds,
The Victims,
Index,
Colin Newman,
Lalann,
Minor Threat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Evens,
B.T. Express,
World's Most,
Drexciya,
The Fuzztones,
Camouflage,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
KRS-One,
Angry Samoans,
The Smoke,
Dawn Penn,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Spandau Ballet,
Mary Jane Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tim Buckley,
Marc Almond,
Dual Sessions,
Adolescents,
The Monochrome Set,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bronski Beat,
Swans,
Young Marble Giants,
Bang On A Can,
Henry Cow,
June Days,
Supertramp,
Soft Cell,
F. McDonald,
ABC,
Rakim,
Desert Stars,
This Heat,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.