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 Singapore and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the techno 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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Camberwell Now,
R.M.O.,
Qualms,
DNA,
Shuggie Otis,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Invisible,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Wally Richardson,
Essential Logic,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rapeman,
Scientists,
The Gladiators,
Maurizio,
The Young Rascals,
Sonny Sharrock,
This Heat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Monks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Goldenarms,
Fugazi,
These Immortal Souls,
Pussy Galore,
Aloha Tigers,
ABC,
Connie Case,
Monolake,
Mark Hollis,
Los Fastidios,
the Germs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minor Threat,
Hasil Adkins,
Aural Exciters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Young Marble Giants,
Dual Sessions,
Sun City Girls,
Mo-Dettes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Flag,
Public Image Ltd.,
Juan Atkins,
John Holt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Amon Düül II,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
AZ,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Max Romeo,
Henry Cow,
Q65,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Altered Images,
The Move,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rekid,
Howard Jones,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.