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 Belgium and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Nick Fraelich to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
These Immortal Souls,
Slave,
Black Bananas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Trojans,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eli Mardock,
Lebanon Hanover,
Faust,
Matthew Bourne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
B.T. Express,
Eddi Front,
Adolescents,
The Walker Brothers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang Green,
The Birthday Party,
Pere Ubu,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun City Girls,
Pantaleimon,
Bob Dylan,
The Fire Engines,
Erasure,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dennis Brown,
L. Decosne,
Dorothy Ashby,
Morten Harket,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jacques Brel,
The Blues Magoos,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Patti Smith,
Drexciya,
Peter and Kerry,
The Gap Band,
The Five Americans,
John Lydon,
Dave Gahan,
Scan 7,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Von Mondo,
Graham Central Station,
Girls At Our Best!,
Quando Quango,
Groovy Waters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mr. Review,
Technova,
Joy Division,
Judy Mowatt,
Dawn Penn,
Quantec,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Motions,
Nirvana,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.