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 Jamaica and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 synthesizer 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 Excepter to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth 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 arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fela Kuti,
Surgeon,
Can,
Harry Pussy,
Monolake,
Throbbing Gristle,
Suburban Knight,
Marc Almond,
Ornette Coleman,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eve St. Jones,
Slick Rick,
The Music Machine,
The Invisible,
Spandau Ballet,
Rites of Spring,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Oblivians,
Roger Hodgson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Camberwell Now,
Marine Girls,
The Blackbyrds,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bauhaus,
Scott Walker,
Minutemen,
The Remains,
Blancmange,
Idris Muhammad,
Letta Mbulu,
Josef K,
Glenn Branca,
B.T. Express,
Fad Gadget,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nirvana,
Don Cherry,
Skarface,
Robert Wyatt,
Rod Modell,
Spoonie Gee,
John Holt,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fortunes,
Reagan Youth,
Delon & Dalcan,
Depeche Mode,
Babytalk,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Smoke,
The Wake,
Dead Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Sheep,
Peter & Gordon,
The Black Dice,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.