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 Maldives and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Roger Hodgson to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Heaven 17,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Altered Images,
The Moleskins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
John Holt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Selecter,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cowsills,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Japan,
Josef K,
Fad Gadget,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
Nirvana,
Motorama,
Wolf Eyes,
Yellowson,
The Neon Judgement,
Max Romeo,
Joyce Sims,
Liliput,
The Real Kids,
Crooked Eye,
Matthew Halsall,
David Axelrod,
Lalo Schifrin,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gladiators,
Second Layer,
Tubeway Army,
Deadbeat,
Flipper,
Marc Almond,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wasted Youth,
Depeche Mode,
Gerry Rafferty,
Schoolly D,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Drexciya,
Man Parrish,
Don Cherry,
Barry Ungar,
Mr. Review,
the Soft Cell,
Joe Finger,
Wally Richardson,
Duran Duran,
Laurel Aitken,
Camouflage,
Terry Callier,
Siglo XX,
Aural Exciters,
David Bowie,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.