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 Slovenia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 Stockholm and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Peter & Gordon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
The Toasters,
This Heat,
Robert Görl,
The Kinks,
Blancmange,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Severed Heads,
Maurizio,
The Busters,
Albert Ayler,
Rites of Spring,
Kurtis Blow,
Hoover,
In Retrospect,
F. McDonald,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Q and Not U,
Lalo Schifrin,
Grauzone,
Minutemen,
Traffic Nightmare,
Aswad,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Misunderstood,
Max Romeo,
The Monks,
Godley & Creme,
Brothers Johnson,
Loose Ends,
Main Source,
Rapeman,
Sugar Minott,
Echospace,
Roxette,
Supertramp,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Country Teasers,
The Divine Comedy,
Mars,
Royal Trux,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Gladiators,
The Grass Roots,
Neil Young,
Archie Shepp,
Marvin Gaye,
Chris & Cosey,
The Electric Prunes,
FM Einheit,
Frankie Knuckles,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Spandau Ballet,
Oneida,
Ohio Players,
The Skatalites,
Darondo,
David Bowie,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.