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 Rwanda and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 güiro 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
Spandau Ballet,
Funky Four + One,
Tropical Tobacco,
a-ha,
Sight & Sound,
Porter Ricks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Charles Mingus,
Eurythmics,
Colin Newman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wasted Youth,
The Smoke,
Juan Atkins,
Donny Hathaway,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kerri Chandler,
Franke,
Desert Stars,
Bad Manners,
Arthur Verocai,
Stiv Bators,
Flipper,
Drive Like Jehu,
Youth Brigade,
Dennis Brown,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joe Smooth,
Siglo XX,
Rufus Thomas,
Sex Pistols,
Talk Talk,
Black Bananas,
Second Layer,
Glenn Branca,
Mr. Review,
Pussy Galore,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Busters,
Aaron Thompson,
Blancmange,
Shoche,
Sixth Finger,
Half Japanese,
Rites of Spring,
The Moleskins,
Newcleus,
Los Fastidios,
Funkadelic,
Adolescents,
Kool Moe Dee,
Quadrant,
Wally Richardson,
Bronski Beat,
Kevin Saunderson,
JFA,
Ten City,
Sound Behaviour,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.