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 Venezuela and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Warren Ellis to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bronski Beat,
Pantytec,
Tim Buckley,
Arab on Radar,
Blossom Toes,
Drexciya,
The Offenders,
Dawn Penn,
Boredoms,
Clear Light,
The Slackers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Surgeon,
Pussy Galore,
Flipper,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Womack,
Loose Ends,
Steve Hackett,
Donald Byrd,
Warren Ellis,
Royal Trux,
Can,
The Saints,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Wake,
Deakin,
Fluxion,
Slick Rick,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Monochrome Set,
Joyce Sims,
K-Klass,
The Black Dice,
Pylon,
Severed Heads,
Joe Smooth,
Robert Hood,
These Immortal Souls,
The Cramps,
Unrelated Segments,
Ultravox,
Main Source,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hot Snakes,
Aswad,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Slits,
Robert Görl,
The Pretty Things,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cal Tjader,
Von Mondo,
Sällskapet,
Maleditus Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fugs,
Echospace,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.