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 Nigeria and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Spandau Ballet to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Little Man,
Black Pus,
Qualms,
H. Thieme,
Scientists,
Pussy Galore,
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott Heron,
Can,
Aaron Thompson,
The Names,
Zero Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Shadows of Knight,
Vainqueur,
Stereo Dub,
Lou Reed,
Ultravox,
The Grass Roots,
Joensuu 1685,
Popol Vuh,
The Misunderstood,
Ken Boothe,
Soft Cell,
Darondo,
Tim Buckley,
Lakeside,
Pylon,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Martian,
Kayak,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Raincoats,
Eddi Front,
Glambeats Corp.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kenny Larkin,
The Offenders,
Jimmy McGriff,
Don Cherry,
Mark Hollis,
Shoche,
The Monks,
X-101,
These Immortal Souls,
Pantaleimon,
Black Bananas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oblivians,
Bang On A Can,
Robert Wyatt,
Suburban Knight,
Marmalade,
Essential Logic,
The Cure,
The Seeds,
Pet Shop Boys,
Al Stewart,
LL Cool J,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.