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 Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Unrelated Segments to the techno 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Brand Nubian,
Black Bananas,
Godley & Creme,
Max Romeo,
Erasure,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Franke,
Joyce Sims,
Steve Hackett,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wire,
Cheater Slicks,
Slick Rick,
Laurel Aitken,
Barbara Tucker,
The Move,
Man Parrish,
The United States of America,
Sister Nancy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Q and Not U,
Saccharine Trust,
Spandau Ballet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultravox,
The Smiths,
Theoretical Girls,
L. Decosne,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Buckinghams,
Brick,
Pylon,
The Saints,
Young Marble Giants,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Niagra,
The Evens,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Offenders,
Stockholm Monsters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marshall Jefferson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Arcadia,
Stereo Dub,
Aaron Thompson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rosa Yemen,
Pierre Henry,
Todd Rundgren,
Ponytail,
Public Image Ltd.,
Audionom,
Index,
cv313,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dead Boys,
Visage,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.