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 Kenya and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Buzzcocks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Cluster,
Robert Wyatt,
The Divine Comedy,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Can,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bush Tetras,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Gladiators,
Ronnie Foster,
Funky Four + One,
Sparks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Searchers,
Mars,
Surgeon,
Blossom Toes,
Donald Byrd,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pantytec,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joyce Sims,
Ludus,
the Human League,
Al Stewart,
The Victims,
Nirvana,
Cymande,
Kaleidoscope,
The United States of America,
Marcia Griffiths,
Minutemen,
Howard Jones,
Amon Düül II,
The Smiths,
Albert Ayler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Deepchord,
The Dirtbombs,
Au Pairs,
DNA,
Funkadelic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marvin Gaye,
The Leaves,
New Age Steppers,
Fatback Band,
Amazonics,
Gichy Dan,
Swans,
Heaven 17,
Ossler,
Soft Cell,
The Slits,
One Last Wish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Blancmange,
Jacques Brel,
X-101,
Barbara Tucker,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.