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 Laos and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 theremin 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the funk 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Lindisfarne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fall,
Urselle,
Ultravox,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pussy Galore,
Maurizio,
Danielle Patucci,
Surgeon,
Nik Kershaw,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eddi Front,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The J.B.'s,
Rakim,
Mo-Dettes,
Alice Coltrane,
Brick,
Robert Görl,
Sister Nancy,
The Trojans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Count Five,
Gong,
John Foxx,
Visage,
Fela Kuti,
Marcia Griffiths,
James White and The Blacks,
The Real Kids,
Desert Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
T. Rex,
Technova,
June of 44,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fugazi,
The Techniques,
Soul Sonic Force,
X-102,
The Smoke,
Skaos,
Fatback Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sandy B,
Yellowson,
John Coltrane,
Franke,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gang Starr,
Gang Green,
Mandrill,
Minor Threat,
The Standells,
One Last Wish,
L. Decosne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Boredoms,
Bang On A Can,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.