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 Lebanon and from Seoul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Magazine to the punk 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
Donald Byrd,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Procol Harum,
Morten Harket,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
T. Rex,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Slackers,
Roy Ayers,
The Modern Lovers,
The Names,
B.T. Express,
Soul II Soul,
Ten City,
Blake Baxter,
The United States of America,
Boz Scaggs,
New Age Steppers,
The Smoke,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fad Gadget,
Juan Atkins,
Severed Heads,
Mandrill,
Barry Ungar,
Wings,
Funky Four + One,
Yazoo,
Ponytail,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dark Day,
The Skatalites,
Harry Pussy,
The Litter,
Frankie Knuckles,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultravox,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Busters,
Q65,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gladiators,
Harpers Bizarre,
Anakelly,
Scrapy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aloha Tigers,
Gabor Szabo,
Kaleidoscope,
Jacques Brel,
Minor Threat,
Malaria!,
Tim Buckley,
The Gun Club,
Roxette,
The Move,
The Doobie Brothers,
Basic Channel,
Fugazi,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.