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 Tonga and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Alarm Clocks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Suburban Knight,
Alphaville,
Lyres,
Derrick Morgan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Laurel Aitken,
Zero Boys,
Interpol,
The Stooges,
Faraquet,
Amazonics,
48th St. Collective,
Depeche Mode,
Johnny Osbourne,
Con Funk Shun,
Slave,
Amon Düül II,
Model 500,
Jerry's Kids,
Minnie Riperton,
Duran Duran,
Dual Sessions,
T. Rex,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cheater Slicks,
Dave Gahan,
Reagan Youth,
Donald Byrd,
Metal Thangz,
Niagra,
Kool Moe Dee,
Man Eating Sloth,
L. Decosne,
Massinfluence,
the Soft Cell,
The Skatalites,
The Detroit Cobras,
Organ,
Jacob Miller,
the Germs,
Joe Finger,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ituana,
Procol Harum,
Gang Starr,
Robert Görl,
Barbara Tucker,
Infiniti,
Wings,
David Axelrod,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kurtis Blow,
Agitation Free,
Soulsonic Force,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Warsaw,
David McCallum,
Q and Not U,
Peter and Kerry,
The Grass Roots,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.