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 Togo and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Golliwogs to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Move. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Godley & Creme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Graham Central Station,
Malaria!,
Marvin Gaye,
Amazonics,
Mary Jane Girls,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare,
Idris Muhammad,
Metal Thangz,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Youth Brigade,
Depeche Mode,
Monolake,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tears for Fears,
Grauzone,
Erasure,
Talk Talk,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sex Pistols,
The Motions,
Marc Almond,
Ludus,
Section 25,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fatback Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Adolescents,
Nils Olav,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Wyatt,
Fugazi,
Peter & Gordon,
The Gun Club,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scion,
New York Dolls,
Ultravox,
The Offenders,
Derrick May,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ornette Coleman,
Rekid,
Surgeon,
Black Bananas,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sam Rivers,
Drexciya,
Cluster,
Connie Case,
Inner City,
Robert Hood,
Minutemen,
Arab on Radar,
Magma,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nico,
The Martian,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.