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 Qatar and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Visage to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Liliput,
John Lydon,
Tears for Fears,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
China Crisis,
Visage,
The Mummies,
a-ha,
The Cure,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Görl,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Toni Rubio,
Lakeside,
Smog,
The Names,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rakim,
Fluxion,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cybotron,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Qualms,
Ultravox,
Q and Not U,
B.T. Express,
Tim Buckley,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Con Funk Shun,
Howard Jones,
Hardrive,
Kerri Chandler,
Pet Shop Boys,
Flipper,
Cameo,
Peter and Kerry,
Radio Birdman,
Ituana,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Popol Vuh,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Smiths,
Hashim,
Pantaleimon,
Joensuu 1685,
Roy Ayers,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Wally Richardson,
Bluetip,
Sarah Menescal,
John Coltrane,
Quando Quango,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joe Smooth,
Rod Modell,
Q65,
The Birthday Party,
Babytalk,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.