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 Tanzania and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Matthew Bourne to the techno 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
In Retrospect,
The Sound,
Chrome,
Bauhaus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Shoche,
Shuggie Otis,
Soft Cell,
Fluxion,
The Dave Clark Five,
Stockholm Monsters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ken Boothe,
Duran Duran,
Iggy Pop,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alice Coltrane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Subhumans,
Wasted Youth,
The Five Americans,
Minny Pops,
Quantec,
The Fire Engines,
The Divine Comedy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alton Ellis,
Jacob Miller,
The Techniques,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Spandau Ballet,
the Slits,
The Tremeloes,
Silicon Teens,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Adolescents,
Blake Baxter,
EPMD,
Mary Jane Girls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Agitation Free,
Hashim,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fear,
Symarip,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Fuzztones,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rites of Spring,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Section 25,
Deepchord,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Pretty Things,
Joe Smooth,
Agent Orange,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.