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 Peru and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
David Bowie,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Remains,
Groovy Waters,
Johnny Clarke,
Peter and Kerry,
Chrome,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joey Negro,
R.M.O.,
Stereo Dub,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bronski Beat,
Spandau Ballet,
Blancmange,
Jerry's Kids,
The Human League,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Aloha Tigers,
Sister Nancy,
Quadrant,
Lower 48,
Jeff Lynne,
Magazine,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Q and Not U,
Gabor Szabo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Swell Maps,
Barry Ungar,
Mad Mike,
Moby Grape,
DNA,
Animal Collective,
Bobby Sherman,
Derrick May,
Fugazi,
The Shadows of Knight,
Q65,
Ossler,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harmonia,
China Crisis,
Erasure,
Donald Byrd,
Fad Gadget,
Stetsasonic,
Hot Snakes,
The Selecter,
The Litter,
Lalann,
Joyce Sims,
Pantytec,
Oblivians,
kango's stein massive,
Mr. Review,
Bush Tetras,
Yaz,
Boz Scaggs,
Japan,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.