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 Mozambique and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soft Cell to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Mark Hollis,
Mission of Burma,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dark Day,
Sixth Finger,
Curtis Mayfield,
Godley & Creme,
Heaven 17,
Main Source,
B.T. Express,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kas Product,
Thompson Twins,
Liliput,
The Beau Brummels,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Modern Lovers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The New Christs,
Lyres,
Frankie Knuckles,
Infiniti,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Chrome,
New Order,
Joe Finger,
The Residents,
June of 44,
Quando Quango,
Pantaleimon,
Yaz,
Moss Icon,
The Dead C,
F. McDonald,
Lebanon Hanover,
Swans,
Sound Behaviour,
The Trojans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Fat Boys,
Tears for Fears,
Ultra Naté,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Evens,
The American Breed,
Dual Sessions,
The Cure,
Severed Heads,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Guru Guru,
Hasil Adkins,
Howard Jones,
The Human League,
The Five Americans,
Magma,
ABBA,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fear,
Girls At Our Best!,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.