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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar 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 Derrick May to the techno 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Magma,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Harmonia,
Amon Düül,
Ohio Players,
Darondo,
Marc Almond,
This Heat,
The J.B.'s,
The Happenings,
The Pop Group,
June of 44,
The Dead C,
The Buckinghams,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Lydon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Juan Atkins,
Letta Mbulu,
Joey Negro,
Bob Dylan,
Babytalk,
Faraquet,
the Germs,
Moebius,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Brothers Johnson,
Dual Sessions,
X-Ray Spex,
Maleditus Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bluetip,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Donald Byrd,
Grey Daturas,
L. Decosne,
Smog,
Ronan,
Agitation Free,
Charles Mingus,
Radiohead,
Altered Images,
ABC,
AZ,
Young Marble Giants,
Underground Resistance,
Technova,
Eric Dolphy,
the Sonics,
Lakeside,
The Durutti Column,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kool Moe Dee,
Johnny Clarke,
Barry Ungar,
Das Ding,
The Sonics,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.