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 Tonga and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Black Sheep,
The Offenders,
Althea and Donna,
Neu!,
Sparks,
David Bowie,
Tom Boy,
Minor Threat,
Can,
The Pop Group,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jawbox,
Mars,
Amazonics,
The Golliwogs,
Goldenarms,
DJ Sneak,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Joensuu 1685,
Swans,
Nik Kershaw,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Yaz,
Man Parrish,
Slave,
Royal Trux,
Half Japanese,
Los Fastidios,
Excepter,
Sight & Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Pretty Things,
Nico,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roger Hodgson,
Slick Rick,
Joe Smooth,
Byron Stingily,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Aural Exciters,
The Index,
Dawn Penn,
Bob Dylan,
Skriet,
Bluetip,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ronnie Foster,
Heaven 17,
Simply Red,
Curtis Mayfield,
Robert Görl,
The Monochrome Set,
Skarface,
Lebanon Hanover,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Youth Brigade,
Rapeman,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.