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 Uzbekistan and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Frankie Knuckles to the disco 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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Circle Jerks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Stetsasonic,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aloha Tigers,
The Wake,
Morten Harket,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Germs,
Cheater Slicks,
The Index,
Barclay James Harvest,
X-102,
ABBA,
Isaac Hayes,
The Kinks,
Sixth Finger,
The Barracudas,
Skaos,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed,
Porter Ricks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Smog,
Michelle Simonal,
Matthew Bourne,
Gichy Dan,
Theoretical Girls,
Deepchord,
Gil Scott Heron,
These Immortal Souls,
Country Teasers,
H. Thieme,
PIL,
Jeff Lynne,
Scratch Acid,
Tom Boy,
Buzzcocks,
The Raincoats,
Severed Heads,
The Divine Comedy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Newcleus,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Soft Cell,
Radiopuhelimet,
Japan,
DJ Style,
Barry Ungar,
Steve Hackett,
Black Moon,
The Walker Brothers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultra Naté,
Roy Ayers,
L. Decosne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Oneida,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Trojans,
Traffic Nightmare,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.