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 Iraq and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Kerri Chandler,
Man Parrish,
Tim Buckley,
Nirvana,
Avey Tare,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Invisible,
Jeff Mills,
Black Moon,
Cybotron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barrington Levy,
Nas,
T.S.O.L.,
Reuben Wilson,
Wasted Youth,
Joey Negro,
Stockholm Monsters,
B.T. Express,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mars,
Grey Daturas,
Dave Gahan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Anthony Braxton,
The Vogues,
Interpol,
Das Ding,
Derrick May,
Eve St. Jones,
Radiohead,
Ultra Naté,
Lalann,
Sällskapet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Loose Ends,
Lou Christie,
Piero Umiliani,
Wire,
Depeche Mode,
Robert Wyatt,
Whodini,
Qualms,
Eurythmics,
Theoretical Girls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pylon,
Bill Wells,
Jerry's Kids,
Toni Rubio,
Neu!,
Mo-Dettes,
Judy Mowatt,
Joensuu 1685,
Circle Jerks,
Panda Bear,
The Slits,
Television,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.