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 Honduras and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ 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 Juan Atkins to the electroclash 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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Warsaw,
Roger Hodgson,
Depeche Mode,
Japan,
The Toasters,
The Searchers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
DJ Style,
T. Rex,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Durutti Column,
The Young Rascals,
Talk Talk,
MDC,
Charles Mingus,
Maurizio,
Von Mondo,
Radiopuhelimet,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
New Order,
The Fortunes,
a-ha,
Skaos,
Visage,
Nico,
Agent Orange,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Ohio Players,
Adolescents,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Soft Cell,
Severed Heads,
The Kinks,
Fela Kuti,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ossler,
Toni Rubio,
Thompson Twins,
The Gladiators,
Dorothy Ashby,
Das Ding,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Slits,
kango's stein massive,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mo-Dettes,
Terry Callier,
Traffic Nightmare,
Public Enemy,
Accadde A,
U.S. Maple,
Soul II Soul,
Eden Ahbez,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Normal,
John Coltrane,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Index,
The Residents,
Icehouse,
Deadbeat,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.