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 Malawi and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 synthesizer 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 The Knickerbockers to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Pierre Henry,
Supertramp,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jacques Brel,
Yaz,
Johnny Osbourne,
Susan Cadogan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Roxette,
Boredoms,
Mandrill,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Loose Ends,
Oneida,
The Barracudas,
Unwound,
Prince Buster,
Khruangbin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barrington Levy,
Accadde A,
MC5,
The Names,
Colin Newman,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pylon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Brand Nubian,
Ohio Players,
Angry Samoans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Motorama,
Al Stewart,
Boogie Down Productions,
Flash Fearless,
Hoover,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jawbox,
Gil Scott Heron,
Groovy Waters,
Fat Boys,
The Moleskins,
EPMD,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
R.M.O.,
Curtis Mayfield,
Drexciya,
The J.B.'s,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mad Mike,
Marc Almond,
Quantec,
The Gladiators,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Young Marble Giants,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lyres,
This Heat,
Funky Four + One,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.