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 Dominica and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Chris & Cosey to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Terrestrial Tones,
Patti Smith,
Maurizio,
Crime,
The Tremeloes,
Arcadia,
Banda Bassotti,
These Immortal Souls,
L. Decosne,
F. McDonald,
Soft Machine,
The Invisible,
The Martian,
The Sisters of Mercy,
MC5,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Skarface,
The Busters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marmalade,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Heaven 17,
Technova,
Roxette,
Cecil Taylor,
Faust,
Depeche Mode,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rapeman,
Wire,
Kerri Chandler,
Interpol,
Wolf Eyes,
Harmonia,
The Vogues,
Soulsonic Force,
Spandau Ballet,
Nik Kershaw,
Aural Exciters,
Cybotron,
Erasure,
Bobby Sherman,
Michelle Simonal,
Pharoah Sanders,
Hot Snakes,
The Gories,
Eddi Front,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Q65,
Monolake,
Joe Smooth,
Bang On A Can,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Cowsills,
Fad Gadget,
Vainqueur,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.