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 Belgium and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Walker Brothers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
The Offenders,
Mars,
Eric Dolphy,
The Five Americans,
Minnie Riperton,
Newcleus,
Heaven 17,
Brick,
Tomorrow,
Radiohead,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Model 500,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gichy Dan,
ABC,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wally Richardson,
Massinfluence,
Skriet,
Lower 48,
Television Personalities,
Soul Sonic Force,
Depeche Mode,
Bush Tetras,
Visage,
Supertramp,
The Walker Brothers,
Judy Mowatt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jerry's Kids,
Robert Görl,
Barclay James Harvest,
Henry Cow,
The Sonics,
John Holt,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Young Rascals,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sarah Menescal,
Moby Grape,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Motorama,
Bill Wells,
Electric Prunes,
Metal Thangz,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ultravox,
Boogie Down Productions,
H. Thieme,
The Human League,
Outsiders,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harry Pussy,
Siglo XX,
Sam Rivers,
Faraquet,
Reuben Wilson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dave Gahan,
Kool Moe Dee,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.