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 Bahrain and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Raincoats to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
The Wake,
The Monochrome Set,
The Human League,
Black Pus,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Vladislav Delay,
Sight & Sound,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tim Buckley,
T. Rex,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang Starr,
Eli Mardock,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Flag,
The Moody Blues,
Lou Reed,
Dead Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Khruangbin,
Lungfish,
The Skatalites,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Parrish,
Ultra Naté,
Ronan,
LL Cool J,
One Last Wish,
Motorama,
Thee Headcoats,
The Associates,
Jacob Miller,
Isaac Hayes,
Public Enemy,
Pagans,
World's Most,
Laurel Aitken,
FM Einheit,
David Bowie,
Fugazi,
Adolescents,
Connie Case,
Jerry's Kids,
Lakeside,
Shuggie Otis,
The Doors,
Pet Shop Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Toasters,
Tommy Roe,
June of 44,
Depeche Mode,
The Saints,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Josef K,
Babytalk,
Jesper Dahlback,
Peter & Gordon,
Brick,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.