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 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and London.
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 guitar 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 Jeff Mills to the jazz 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Saccharine Trust,
Pharoah Sanders,
Freddie Wadling,
Cameo,
Gang Starr,
Reagan Youth,
Rekid,
Big Daddy Kane,
Simply Red,
Girls At Our Best!,
Oneida,
Matthew Bourne,
Desert Stars,
Reuben Wilson,
Drexciya,
Television,
Massinfluence,
Dennis Brown,
Tubeway Army,
Gang of Four,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Shuggie Otis,
The Count Five,
Buzzcocks,
Skriet,
Lyres,
Whodini,
Main Source,
Brass Construction,
Henry Cow,
Stereo Dub,
The Monks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fortunes,
Joy Division,
JFA,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Normal,
ABBA,
Inner City,
Au Pairs,
Nils Olav,
The Index,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
David Bowie,
Wire,
Pulsallama,
Eddi Front,
Harmonia,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kas Product,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rufus Thomas,
KRS-One,
DJ Sneak,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eden Ahbez,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
John Holt,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.