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 Dominican Republic and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ludus to the crunk 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Symarip,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Newcleus,
MC5,
Brick,
Morten Harket,
Subhumans,
Silicon Teens,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rakim,
Brand Nubian,
Gang Gang Dance,
Section 25,
The Gladiators,
Ten City,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Albert Ayler,
Wally Richardson,
Swell Maps,
the Sonics,
Oblivians,
Roy Ayers,
Anakelly,
Nirvana,
Crooked Eye,
Duran Duran,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nick Fraelich,
The Human League,
Crime,
Erasure,
Soulsonic Force,
Connie Case,
The American Breed,
the Soft Cell,
Janne Schatter,
The Remains,
Rapeman,
Althea and Donna,
World's Most,
Bob Dylan,
Pussy Galore,
Idris Muhammad,
Letta Mbulu,
The Young Rascals,
Eli Mardock,
Man Parrish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
One Last Wish,
Reuben Wilson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Josef K,
Marvin Gaye,
The Names,
Camouflage,
the Swans,
AZ,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.