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 Finland and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Arthur Verocai to the rap 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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Boredoms,
Electric Prunes,
The Last Poets,
Barry Ungar,
The Tremeloes,
T. Rex,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
AZ,
Mandrill,
Youth Brigade,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bluetip,
Josef K,
Joe Smooth,
Ronan,
DJ Sneak,
The Fire Engines,
Cal Tjader,
the Association,
One Last Wish,
The Raincoats,
Au Pairs,
Minnie Riperton,
Lyres,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Porter Ricks,
Sam Rivers,
Oblivians,
Rakim,
The Real Kids,
Johnny Osbourne,
Newcleus,
Can,
Marvin Gaye,
Amon Düül,
Skaos,
Eurythmics,
Henry Cow,
Vladislav Delay,
Symarip,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
La Düsseldorf,
Clear Light,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sun Ra,
Toni Rubio,
Pagans,
Sister Nancy,
Gang Green,
Letta Mbulu,
Rapeman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ice-T,
Nas,
Scratch Acid,
Dawn Penn,
Dave Gahan,
Popol Vuh,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.