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 Bulgaria 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 the Soft Cell to the rock 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
One Last Wish,
The Black Dice,
Q65,
Gang Green,
Black Sheep,
Slick Rick,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Wake,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sällskapet,
Drexciya,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tres Demented,
Kurtis Blow,
Youth Brigade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Isaac Hayes,
Reuben Wilson,
Spoonie Gee,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
In Retrospect,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ronan,
John Holt,
The Fortunes,
Second Layer,
Magazine,
Dual Sessions,
Thompson Twins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Tremeloes,
Rosa Yemen,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ten City,
Kerri Chandler,
Lalann,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Procol Harum,
Deakin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marvin Gaye,
The Selecter,
The Busters,
Dawn Penn,
Bobby Womack,
Sly & The Family Stone,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ornette Coleman,
Arthur Verocai,
The Happenings,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ituana,
Amon Düül II,
The Sonics,
Das Ding,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Electric Prunes,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.