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 Germany and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Electric Prunes to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Jesper Dahlback,
Brass Construction,
The Index,
X-Ray Spex,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DNA,
Dave Gahan,
Tomorrow,
Camberwell Now,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eve St. Jones,
Funkadelic,
Roy Ayers,
Hoover,
The Blues Magoos,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Alphaville,
Gregory Isaacs,
Derrick May,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Vainqueur,
Neu!,
Monolake,
Los Fastidios,
Warren Ellis,
Heaven 17,
Soulsonic Force,
X-101,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Clear Light,
Johnny Clarke,
Rekid,
David Bowie,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Barclay James Harvest,
Amon Düül II,
The Busters,
The Black Dice,
The Fuzztones,
H. Thieme,
The Neon Judgement,
Rosa Yemen,
The Move,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cecil Taylor,
Ken Boothe,
Marmalade,
Ornette Coleman,
Deadbeat,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alison Limerick,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Simply Red,
Robert Wyatt,
Alice Coltrane,
The Velvet Underground,
Maurizio,
The Birthday Party,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.