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 Guinea-Bissau and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 marimba 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 a-ha to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Skaos,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kool Moe Dee,
Interpol,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Blues Magoos,
The Angels of Light,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
One Last Wish,
The Shadows of Knight,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Kinks,
The Monks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Country Teasers,
Audionom,
Grey Daturas,
The Star Department,
Qualms,
Camberwell Now,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Suburban Knight,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rekid,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Big Daddy Kane,
Subhumans,
DJ Style,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Cale,
Man Parrish,
The New Christs,
John Lydon,
In Retrospect,
Organ,
Kenny Larkin,
Sixth Finger,
Swans,
The Moody Blues,
Alice Coltrane,
The Golliwogs,
The Move,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Quadrant,
Alison Limerick,
Eric Copeland,
The Buckinghams,
Faust,
The Black Dice,
Angry Samoans,
Chrome,
Gang Starr,
Matthew Bourne,
The Martian,
the Normal,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sound Behaviour,
The Alarm Clocks,
Neil Young,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.