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 Suriname and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Vogues to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
The Durutti Column,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blossom Toes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eli Mardock,
Roger Hodgson,
Rotary Connection,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wasted Youth,
The Fuzztones,
Joey Negro,
Kerri Chandler,
Pierre Henry,
Bronski Beat,
The Martian,
The Mummies,
Rapeman,
Bang On A Can,
Sällskapet,
Sugar Minott,
Sister Nancy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Agitation Free,
Porter Ricks,
Metal Thangz,
John Holt,
Jeru the Damaja,
Robert Hood,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gun Club,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fat Boys,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultra Naté,
Eurythmics,
Sun Ra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dave Gahan,
Quando Quango,
The Evens,
Sex Pistols,
Brick,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jeff Lynne,
Cheater Slicks,
Erasure,
Arcadia,
Zapp,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Glenn Branca,
Malaria!,
Shoche,
Dark Day,
The Alarm Clocks,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.