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 Mauritania and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the dance 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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Scott Walker,
Black Moon,
The Zeros,
The Gap Band,
Tomorrow,
Matthew Bourne,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Busters,
Barry Ungar,
AZ,
Glenn Branca,
Unwound,
kango's stein massive,
Lou Reed,
The Wake,
Ohio Players,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Silicon Teens,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joyce Sims,
Joy Division,
Suicide,
The Music Machine,
The Fuzztones,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Harry Pussy,
Hardrive,
Thompson Twins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Don Cherry,
The Tremeloes,
Grey Daturas,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tim Buckley,
Marine Girls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rufus Thomas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Donald Byrd,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Dirtbombs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Young Marble Giants,
Trumans Water,
X-Ray Spex,
Maleditus Sound,
Yellowson,
Rekid,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Slick Rick,
Jandek,
Wally Richardson,
Khruangbin,
Idris Muhammad,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Duran Duran,
Newcleus,
Ituana,
K-Klass,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.