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 Slovenia and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Underground Resistance,
The Durutti Column,
Flamin' Groovies,
Icehouse,
The Index,
Tres Demented,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Monks,
Inner City,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Flag,
Matthew Halsall,
Main Source,
Mo-Dettes,
Angry Samoans,
Zapp,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Mojo Men,
Newcleus,
Ornette Coleman,
The Stooges,
Procol Harum,
Ludus,
The Pretty Things,
X-102,
Ponytail,
Harmonia,
Liliput,
Man Parrish,
Pierre Henry,
Josef K,
The Grass Roots,
Camberwell Now,
Parry Music,
Chris & Cosey,
Agitation Free,
The Names,
Wasted Youth,
Youth Brigade,
Andrew Hill,
Magma,
Bronski Beat,
Glenn Branca,
Intrusion,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Reagan Youth,
Bill Wells,
The Residents,
New Order,
The Five Americans,
Steve Hackett,
Blossom Toes,
Mantronix,
Brick,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
48th St. Collective,
Chrome,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.