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 Estonia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Marshall Jefferson to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lou Reed,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Radio Birdman,
The Pretty Things,
the Germs,
Magazine,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fire Engines,
Brick,
Oblivians,
X-102,
The Martian,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cluster,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bobby Byrd,
Make Up,
the Sonics,
Rakim,
Judy Mowatt,
China Crisis,
Faust,
Freddie Wadling,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Masters at Work,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Camouflage,
Echospace,
The Music Machine,
John Holt,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Slits,
Archie Shepp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Unwound,
the Human League,
Amon Düül II,
Bauhaus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cecil Taylor,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Shoche,
Rufus Thomas,
Ohio Players,
Visage,
Ultravox,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Motorama,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dual Sessions,
Ronnie Foster,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Chris & Cosey,
Wally Richardson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.