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 Venezuela and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin 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 Sexual Harrassment to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Knickerbockers,
Minny Pops,
Prince Buster,
The Tremeloes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Robert Hood,
Swell Maps,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tres Demented,
Roy Ayers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dave Gahan,
the Association,
Radiohead,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mr. Review,
Wings,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Theoretical Girls,
Chris & Cosey,
Quantec,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Neon Judgement,
Jimmy McGriff,
Model 500,
Rufus Thomas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
10cc,
Au Pairs,
Basic Channel,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fuzztones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Second Layer,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Byrd,
The Sound,
Cybotron,
The Electric Prunes,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang Green,
Alphaville,
Danielle Patucci,
Echospace,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Saccharine Trust,
K-Klass,
Stockholm Monsters,
Aaron Thompson,
The American Breed,
Sun Ra,
Kerri Chandler,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.