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 Nauru and from Delhi.
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 Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Smiths to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Skaos,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Blackbyrds,
The Slits,
Rekid,
Little Man,
Outsiders,
Ronnie Foster,
Oneida,
Dave Gahan,
The Angels of Light,
Joensuu 1685,
Fat Boys,
Easy Going,
Wings,
Excepter,
Flash Fearless,
The Black Dice,
David Bowie,
Avey Tare,
Agitation Free,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sparks,
The J.B.'s,
Ossler,
Quando Quango,
The Walker Brothers,
Franke,
Scan 7,
The Stooges,
The Golliwogs,
Electric Prunes,
Flipper,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tubeway Army,
Alice Coltrane,
Pagans,
Blancmange,
The Count Five,
Althea and Donna,
Gabor Szabo,
Unrelated Segments,
Talk Talk,
Glenn Branca,
Mary Jane Girls,
kango's stein massive,
Fatback Band,
Eli Mardock,
X-101,
The Gun Club,
Lakeside,
Sugar Minott,
Half Japanese,
D'Angelo,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nik Kershaw,
Saccharine Trust,
June of 44,
Tres Demented,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Blues Magoos,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.