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 Somalia and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator 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 Swans to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
The Names,
Aswad,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kaleidoscope,
kango's stein massive,
Ohio Players,
Ituana,
Supertramp,
Wolf Eyes,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fortunes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Patti Smith,
John Lydon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nirvana,
Alice Coltrane,
Pagans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Knickerbockers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Das Ding,
The Dead C,
Cal Tjader,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Aloha Tigers,
The Golliwogs,
Sam Rivers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Josef K,
Jerry's Kids,
Soulsonic Force,
Magazine,
Junior Murvin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joensuu 1685,
The Last Poets,
X-Ray Spex,
Yaz,
Mark Hollis,
MC5,
Terrestrial Tones,
Monolake,
Terry Callier,
Warsaw,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tears for Fears,
Q and Not U,
Kenny Larkin,
Grandmaster Flash,
Simply Red,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Walker Brothers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Quantec,
Dennis Brown,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cramps,
The Trojans,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.