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 Liberia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Lou Reed 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 Half Japanese to the techno 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eden Ahbez record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin 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?
The Index,
Lou Christie,
London Community Gospel Choir,
EPMD,
8 Eyed Spy,
Neil Young,
the Association,
Angry Samoans,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rod Modell,
Spandau Ballet,
The Associates,
Metal Thangz,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Archie Shepp,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wire,
Marvin Gaye,
Moebius,
the Swans,
Donald Byrd,
Idris Muhammad,
Organ,
Urselle,
The New Christs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Slick Rick,
Cecil Taylor,
JFA,
Laurel Aitken,
Kevin Saunderson,
Althea and Donna,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Excepter,
Moss Icon,
The Beau Brummels,
Warsaw,
Theoretical Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Doors,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Byrd,
Morten Harket,
Davy DMX,
Brass Construction,
Sarah Menescal,
John Foxx,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Lydon,
Boredoms,
Eli Mardock,
The Mummies,
Icehouse,
Porter Ricks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Hot Snakes,
Deepchord,
New Order,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Danielle Patucci,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.