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 Chile and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 chamberlin 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 The Detroit Cobras to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Easy Going,
The Real Kids,
Mission of Burma,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Gladiators,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Germs,
Kaleidoscope,
Althea and Donna,
The Fortunes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scott Walker,
Camberwell Now,
The Searchers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Q65,
Andrew Hill,
Gichy Dan,
Depeche Mode,
The Index,
Half Japanese,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bluetip,
Avey Tare,
Marshall Jefferson,
EPMD,
The Angels of Light,
Guru Guru,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultravox,
Barry Ungar,
H. Thieme,
The Skatalites,
The Motions,
John Lydon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Archie Shepp,
Barrington Levy,
Infiniti,
Charles Mingus,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Monochrome Set,
The Dead C,
Lightning Bolt,
The Slits,
Buzzcocks,
Sparks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tomorrow,
Laurel Aitken,
Bob Dylan,
Scientists,
Chris & Cosey,
ABC,
Eddi Front,
T.S.O.L.,
Boz Scaggs,
Connie Case,
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.