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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the organ 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 Buzzcocks to the disco 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a guitar 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 arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Frankie Knuckles,
Judy Mowatt,
Al Stewart,
B.T. Express,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jeff Lynne,
Cecil Taylor,
Junior Murvin,
Vladislav Delay,
Pussy Galore,
Ludus,
The Durutti Column,
The Velvet Underground,
the Swans,
Todd Terry,
The Busters,
Ten City,
Soulsonic Force,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Star Department,
The Smiths,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Can,
Freddie Wadling,
Crime,
Liliput,
Girls At Our Best!,
Q and Not U,
Spoonie Gee,
Deakin,
The Slits,
The Moody Blues,
Joey Negro,
Scientists,
The Gladiators,
The Buckinghams,
Wasted Youth,
Gabor Szabo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kayak,
Dave Gahan,
Jerry's Kids,
Rapeman,
Black Moon,
Make Up,
Idris Muhammad,
Danielle Patucci,
The Raincoats,
In Retrospect,
Tommy Roe,
Smog,
Moby Grape,
The Misunderstood,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Marmalade,
Donald Byrd,
Fela Kuti,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Sonics,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.