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 Somalia and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Alarm Clocks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
The Neon Judgement,
Graham Central Station,
Eve St. Jones,
Gabor Szabo,
Arthur Verocai,
Camouflage,
The Vogues,
Boz Scaggs,
Dave Gahan,
Scion,
Minor Threat,
Adolescents,
OOIOO,
Grauzone,
The Blues Magoos,
Parry Music,
Babytalk,
Royal Trux,
Monks,
The Misunderstood,
Skarface,
H. Thieme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Slackers,
Deadbeat,
Laurel Aitken,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gladiators,
Fatback Band,
New Age Steppers,
The Durutti Column,
The Barracudas,
The Move,
Subhumans,
Yazoo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marvin Gaye,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
AZ,
Kaleidoscope,
Scrapy,
The Last Poets,
Siglo XX,
Byron Stingily,
The Index,
Derrick May,
Lower 48,
Fluxion,
The Music Machine,
Lou Christie,
Bauhaus,
Joe Smooth,
Maleditus Sound,
Intrusion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Outsiders,
Stetsasonic,
Masters at Work,
Ronan,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.