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 Argentina and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 The Barracudas to the grime 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Five Americans,
Johnny Clarke,
L. Decosne,
Terrestrial Tones,
DJ Style,
the Germs,
Model 500,
Gerry Rafferty,
Royal Trux,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sound Behaviour,
48th St. Collective,
Lyres,
Amon Düül,
Tubeway Army,
Ten City,
Khruangbin,
Alphaville,
Barrington Levy,
U.S. Maple,
The Real Kids,
The Birthday Party,
The Modern Lovers,
Babytalk,
Bobby Womack,
Joe Smooth,
Jimmy McGriff,
Drive Like Jehu,
Surgeon,
Avey Tare,
Ponytail,
The Slits,
Don Cherry,
Yazoo,
Charles Mingus,
F. McDonald,
Rufus Thomas,
Whodini,
Bobby Sherman,
Howard Jones,
Todd Rundgren,
The Beau Brummels,
8 Eyed Spy,
Von Mondo,
Ossler,
Bad Manners,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pussy Galore,
Cymande,
UT,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Funkadelic,
The New Christs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Hardrive,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.