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 Iraq and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum 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 F. McDonald 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
Joy Division,
Gang Starr,
Harpers Bizarre,
Yellowson,
Little Man,
Terry Callier,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rufus Thomas,
Big Daddy Kane,
B.T. Express,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barbara Tucker,
Idris Muhammad,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Silicon Teens,
Scientists,
Stiv Bators,
This Heat,
The Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Skatalites,
Skriet,
The Divine Comedy,
Aaron Thompson,
Theoretical Girls,
Neu!,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Green,
Frankie Knuckles,
Camberwell Now,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pussy Galore,
Ten City,
Ultravox,
Amon Düül,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Isaac Hayes,
Visage,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aloha Tigers,
CMW,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tres Demented,
The Kinks,
Marc Almond,
Gang Gang Dance,
Yazoo,
Roger Hodgson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Bananas,
Sun Ra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marvin Gaye,
The Blues Magoos,
The Knickerbockers,
Sällskapet,
Peter & Gordon,
Ice-T,
Wings,
The Searchers,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.