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 Pakistan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe 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 Organ to the electroclash 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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Amon Düül,
DJ Sneak,
The Remains,
Marcia Griffiths,
Blossom Toes,
Barrington Levy,
Unrelated Segments,
Yellowson,
the Association,
10cc,
Zapp,
Oneida,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sällskapet,
Connie Case,
Agent Orange,
Stereo Dub,
Gastr Del Sol,
Moss Icon,
Heaven 17,
Desert Stars,
Yazoo,
Lalann,
Cymande,
The Zeros,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gap Band,
U.S. Maple,
Ohio Players,
Steve Hackett,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wire,
The Invisible,
F. McDonald,
The Grass Roots,
Wally Richardson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Iggy Pop,
Black Sheep,
Charles Mingus,
Von Mondo,
Mo-Dettes,
World's Most,
Eli Mardock,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eric Copeland,
Hashim,
The Fortunes,
Main Source,
Joyce Sims,
Nas,
Sonic Youth,
DJ Style,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Human League,
Alphaville,
Outsiders,
The Mummies,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlback,
Das Ding,
New York Dolls,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.