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 Latvia and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the dance 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 The Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Slick Rick,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joy Division,
Crispian St. Peters,
Subhumans,
Scan 7,
Stereo Dub,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lungfish,
Warsaw,
The Birthday Party,
Morten Harket,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
New York Dolls,
Donny Hathaway,
Nick Fraelich,
The Red Krayola,
Das Ding,
Ken Boothe,
Outsiders,
Angry Samoans,
Tears for Fears,
Oneida,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang Starr,
Procol Harum,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Swans,
Dead Boys,
Q and Not U,
Cybotron,
Tubeway Army,
Todd Terry,
Deakin,
The Stooges,
Mr. Review,
Janne Schatter,
John Coltrane,
Robert Görl,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soft Machine,
UT,
The Black Dice,
The Leaves,
The Music Machine,
Joe Smooth,
Fad Gadget,
John Foxx,
The Monochrome Set,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eric B and Rakim,
China Crisis,
Soulsonic Force,
Visage,
Lyres,
Godley & Creme,
The Vogues,
Henry Cow,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.