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 Luxembourg and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythm & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Walker Brothers,
Ronan,
Erykah Badu,
The Raincoats,
Cymande,
D'Angelo,
Mandrill,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Gories,
Scrapy,
The Cowsills,
Ludus,
Stereo Dub,
Hardrive,
Ultravox,
Das Ding,
Schoolly D,
Infiniti,
Khruangbin,
Prince Buster,
Robert Hood,
Magazine,
Black Flag,
Altered Images,
Marcia Griffiths,
L. Decosne,
Roger Hodgson,
Steve Hackett,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Shoche,
Chrome,
Pantytec,
Roxette,
Glambeats Corp.,
U.S. Maple,
The Mojo Men,
the Fania All-Stars,
Banda Bassotti,
Dead Boys,
Juan Atkins,
Ultra Naté,
The Misunderstood,
The Doors,
Mr. Review,
The Saints,
the Soft Cell,
Au Pairs,
Mark Hollis,
Freddie Wadling,
Kerri Chandler,
Skriet,
DJ Style,
The Cure,
Eurythmics,
Yusef Lateef,
The Birthday Party,
ABBA,
Black Bananas,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.