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 Malawi and from Toronto.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the rap 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All 10cc tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Aloha Tigers,
The Selecter,
One Last Wish,
Janne Schatter,
The Smiths,
Thompson Twins,
The Angels of Light,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fear,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bush Tetras,
Harpers Bizarre,
Girls At Our Best!,
Monks,
Swell Maps,
This Heat,
The Dirtbombs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eurythmics,
Fatback Band,
Mad Mike,
The Fall,
Los Fastidios,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Audionom,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Young Rascals,
Hasil Adkins,
Soft Cell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Newcleus,
The Star Department,
Al Stewart,
Pagans,
Tomorrow,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ornette Coleman,
Qualms,
David Axelrod,
Jeff Lynne,
Moby Grape,
Rites of Spring,
Ituana,
Althea and Donna,
Index,
Grauzone,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Neon Judgement,
The Toasters,
Bad Manners,
The American Breed,
Blancmange,
a-ha,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Suicide,
The Zeros,
L. Decosne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.