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 Antigua and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 John Foxx to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Brick,
The Black Dice,
Rhythm & Sound,
Parry Music,
The Seeds,
Sam Rivers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eric Dolphy,
Mo-Dettes,
Robert Hood,
Oneida,
Lucky Dragons,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Camberwell Now,
Cybotron,
The Kinks,
Radio Birdman,
Darondo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Popol Vuh,
Slick Rick,
Ultra Naté,
Rites of Spring,
Pole,
Althea and Donna,
The Toasters,
Isaac Hayes,
Los Fastidios,
The Fall,
Aswad,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Echospace,
Graham Central Station,
The Buckinghams,
The Count Five,
Saccharine Trust,
Ultravox,
Ralphi Rosario,
Groovy Waters,
Visage,
The Moleskins,
Jawbox,
Soft Cell,
Altered Images,
The Index,
ABC,
Hardrive,
Avey Tare,
the Swans,
The Trojans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Procol Harum,
The Techniques,
Warsaw,
Radiopuhelimet,
KRS-One,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.