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 Turkmenistan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Marcia Griffiths to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Minutemen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Faraquet,
Traffic Nightmare,
David McCallum,
Television,
KRS-One,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Selecter,
The Slits,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lou Reed,
Wings,
Eric B and Rakim,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Amon Düül II,
EPMD,
Cal Tjader,
Marc Almond,
Gang Gang Dance,
L. Decosne,
The Gun Club,
The Mojo Men,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Invisible,
Jesper Dahlback,
Depeche Mode,
Blossom Toes,
Symarip,
Absolute Body Control,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Goldenarms,
Jawbox,
Letta Mbulu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
David Axelrod,
Robert Görl,
Junior Murvin,
Theoretical Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Slits,
Con Funk Shun,
Warsaw,
This Heat,
Barbara Tucker,
Eddi Front,
Popol Vuh,
Dual Sessions,
Man Parrish,
Fat Boys,
Au Pairs,
Q and Not U,
Piero Umiliani,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wasted Youth,
Laurel Aitken,
Matthew Bourne,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.