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 Venezuela and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Camouflage to the dance 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster 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?
Thee Headcoats,
The Selecter,
Wally Richardson,
Thompson Twins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Susan Cadogan,
Guru Guru,
Intrusion,
The Knickerbockers,
The Vogues,
Infiniti,
The Residents,
Godley & Creme,
Bronski Beat,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultravox,
Cheater Slicks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Buzzcocks,
Reuben Wilson,
the Sonics,
Davy DMX,
Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare,
Jacob Miller,
The Victims,
The Slits,
T. Rex,
Ronan,
Todd Terry,
The Trojans,
Prince Buster,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kaleidoscope,
The Electric Prunes,
Kenny Larkin,
Brick,
Archie Shepp,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bush Tetras,
Nik Kershaw,
R.M.O.,
Chris & Cosey,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Public Enemy,
Harry Pussy,
The Moody Blues,
Lindisfarne,
Dave Gahan,
Deakin,
Rotary Connection,
X-102,
Scratch Acid,
Bad Manners,
Barrington Levy,
Pulsallama,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-101,
Monks,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.