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 Bahamas and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
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 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 Roger Hodgson to the rap 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
the Slits,
Absolute Body Control,
Ten City,
Electric Prunes,
The Divine Comedy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Morten Harket,
June Days,
Cybotron,
Slave,
Matthew Halsall,
Flash Fearless,
Crispian St. Peters,
Letta Mbulu,
Little Man,
Franke,
The Cowsills,
The Raincoats,
Groovy Waters,
The Gories,
Sam Rivers,
Audionom,
Moss Icon,
Swell Maps,
Minutemen,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Monolake,
Steve Hackett,
Aaron Thompson,
Sparks,
Andrew Hill,
PIL,
Ohio Players,
Ornette Coleman,
Joyce Sims,
Ralphi Rosario,
Animal Collective,
Arab on Radar,
Outsiders,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Crime,
LL Cool J,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Boogie Down Productions,
Harpers Bizarre,
DNA,
Niagra,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Junior Murvin,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Victims,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The American Breed,
Matthew Bourne,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Harry Pussy,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.