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 Croatia and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Prince Buster to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
D'Angelo,
Altered Images,
Man Parrish,
Joe Finger,
The Techniques,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Qualms,
Eve St. Jones,
Cecil Taylor,
Mad Mike,
Skarface,
Malaria!,
Stetsasonic,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rites of Spring,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sixth Finger,
Derrick Morgan,
Steve Hackett,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nirvana,
Panda Bear,
Jacob Miller,
Half Japanese,
Nils Olav,
Shuggie Otis,
The Smoke,
The Offenders,
The Sound,
Crooked Eye,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Judy Mowatt,
Metal Thangz,
The Fugs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mark Hollis,
Rakim,
Scan 7,
Popol Vuh,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Trumans Water,
Aswad,
T. Rex,
Fluxion,
Johnny Clarke,
CMW,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Hood,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
X-102,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fall,
Hardrive,
John Foxx,
Whodini,
U.S. Maple,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.