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 Moldova and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Buzzcocks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Q65 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Eve St. Jones,
Y Pants,
Spoonie Gee,
China Crisis,
Blake Baxter,
The Gun Club,
David Axelrod,
Wire,
World's Most,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yazoo,
Harry Pussy,
Pantaleimon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arcadia,
Rosa Yemen,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eden Ahbez,
The Star Department,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ice-T,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kaleidoscope,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Second Layer,
Hoover,
Cybotron,
Lungfish,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Real Kids,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sun City Girls,
Organ,
The Young Rascals,
Carl Craig,
New Age Steppers,
Mandrill,
Susan Cadogan,
Pole,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Intrusion,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Hardrive,
Whodini,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Vogues,
The Wake,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fortunes,
Agent Orange,
Shoche,
Little Man,
MDC,
Masters at Work,
The Dave Clark Five,
Drive Like Jehu,
cv313,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.