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 Vanuatu and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Intrusion,
48th St. Collective,
U.S. Maple,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Half Japanese,
Motorama,
Soft Cell,
The Gladiators,
New York Dolls,
DNA,
Rotary Connection,
Black Pus,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Barracudas,
The Trojans,
The Selecter,
EPMD,
The Buckinghams,
The Seeds,
The Kinks,
Rakim,
Skriet,
Ronan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eve St. Jones,
Ornette Coleman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Todd Rundgren,
Franke,
Quadrant,
Kas Product,
Susan Cadogan,
Mr. Review,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Leonard Cohen,
John Lydon,
Yaz,
The United States of America,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Dave Clark Five,
R.M.O.,
Pantaleimon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cal Tjader,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Simply Red,
Deepchord,
Ronnie Foster,
Joe Smooth,
Toni Rubio,
The Blues Magoos,
The Moleskins,
Urselle,
Animal Collective,
Bluetip,
The Fugs,
ABBA,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wally Richardson,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.