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 San Marino and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Y Pants to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Sugar Minott,
Metal Thangz,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harpers Bizarre,
Brothers Johnson,
The Remains,
Sun Ra,
Jacques Brel,
Scan 7,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cluster,
Scrapy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Todd Terry,
The Modern Lovers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Skriet,
The Cowsills,
Eddi Front,
Joe Finger,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grey Daturas,
Blake Baxter,
The Last Poets,
Rufus Thomas,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Lightning Bolt,
the Sonics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Todd Rundgren,
Danielle Patucci,
Johnny Osbourne,
Leonard Cohen,
Rotary Connection,
The Fire Engines,
Y Pants,
Infiniti,
Radiopuhelimet,
Slick Rick,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Man Parrish,
The Zeros,
The Dirtbombs,
Deepchord,
Steve Hackett,
Boogie Down Productions,
Yazoo,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Trojans,
H. Thieme,
Morten Harket,
Lebanon Hanover,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Warsaw,
cv313,
Junior Murvin,
Dark Day,
Gang Green,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.