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 Palau and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Roger Hodgson to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Hardrive,
Pulsallama,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sam Rivers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Trojans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tomorrow,
The Modern Lovers,
Groovy Waters,
The Gladiators,
Babytalk,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Reagan Youth,
Robert Hood,
Peter and Kerry,
Alison Limerick,
Gichy Dan,
Minnie Riperton,
Hot Snakes,
Derrick May,
Barrington Levy,
Eli Mardock,
Dave Gahan,
Silicon Teens,
The Barracudas,
The Flesh Eaters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Von Mondo,
Zero Boys,
Boredoms,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fortunes,
The Beau Brummels,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Flag,
Funky Four + One,
Sarah Menescal,
Malaria!,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Darondo,
The Raincoats,
Sandy B,
Alice Coltrane,
Gang of Four,
Television,
Audionom,
The Victims,
The Leaves,
The Slackers,
Marine Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
The Martian,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.