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 Tunisia and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Altered Images,
Alice Coltrane,
Mr. Review,
Young Marble Giants,
Lyres,
Kaleidoscope,
Camouflage,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
These Immortal Souls,
Erykah Badu,
The Modern Lovers,
The American Breed,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rekid,
Newcleus,
The Fuzztones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cecil Taylor,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Tremeloes,
Eric Copeland,
Shoche,
Henry Cow,
Chris & Cosey,
Dawn Penn,
Desert Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Byron Stingily,
Scrapy,
Al Stewart,
Bauhaus,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Public Enemy,
Blake Baxter,
Anakelly,
Gastr Del Sol,
Freddie Wadling,
Flipper,
New Order,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Loose Ends,
Inner City,
Mandrill,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pylon,
Eddi Front,
Warren Ellis,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Don Cherry,
Dorothy Ashby,
Can,
The Sound,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Misunderstood,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.