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 Lebanon and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Swell Maps to the jazz 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Accadde A,
Skaos,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Buckinghams,
Procol Harum,
cv313,
Quando Quango,
The Happenings,
Gabor Szabo,
Marvin Gaye,
Minnie Riperton,
Ten City,
Arcadia,
Max Romeo,
ABBA,
Los Fastidios,
DNA,
Bootsy Collins,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Magazine,
Sister Nancy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quadrant,
Zero Boys,
Second Layer,
Eddi Front,
Jandek,
The Last Poets,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Todd Terry,
World's Most,
Crooked Eye,
Interpol,
Black Flag,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cowsills,
Subhumans,
Duran Duran,
The Knickerbockers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Shuggie Otis,
Tom Boy,
Black Pus,
MDC,
Eden Ahbez,
Rufus Thomas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lindisfarne,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Dave Clark Five,
Jerry's Kids,
Nils Olav,
The Doors,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Urselle,
a-ha,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Cluster,
Oneida,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.