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 Finland and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the disco 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
The Index,
The Fortunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Associates,
Lungfish,
the Fania All-Stars,
T.S.O.L.,
The Black Dice,
Matthew Bourne,
The Golliwogs,
The Last Poets,
Ten City,
Thompson Twins,
Alphaville,
The Dirtbombs,
Jeff Lynne,
Goldenarms,
Ohio Players,
David McCallum,
The Martian,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rapeman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Infiniti,
AZ,
Desert Stars,
Ronan,
Rekid,
Marmalade,
Country Teasers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Procol Harum,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Stooges,
Roger Hodgson,
Subhumans,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Eating Sloth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mr. Review,
Sex Pistols,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Underground Resistance,
The Techniques,
the Bar-Kays,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nick Fraelich,
The Young Rascals,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Slackers,
Aural Exciters,
Scion,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Massinfluence,
The Durutti Column,
Stereo Dub,
Main Source,
Lyres,
DJ Style,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.