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 Croatia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gabor Szabo to the disco 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Television Personalities,
Spandau Ballet,
Ken Boothe,
Wolf Eyes,
Amon Düül,
James White and The Blacks,
The Mummies,
F. McDonald,
Swell Maps,
The Monochrome Set,
Panda Bear,
Lebanon Hanover,
Vainqueur,
The Divine Comedy,
Joey Negro,
Slave,
The Modern Lovers,
Ultra Naté,
Amazonics,
The Moleskins,
The Five Americans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dave Gahan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Leonard Cohen,
Urselle,
Theoretical Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
MC5,
David McCallum,
Mad Mike,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DJ Style,
Kas Product,
The J.B.'s,
Faraquet,
Roy Ayers,
Animal Collective,
the Soft Cell,
Technova,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sight & Sound,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Raincoats,
Rod Modell,
the Association,
The Techniques,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Golliwogs,
Ten City,
Fat Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Byrd,
Johnny Clarke,
The Martian,
The Electric Prunes,
Section 25,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.