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 Slovenia and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pagans to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Heaven 17,
T.S.O.L.,
Al Stewart,
Interpol,
ABBA,
The Moody Blues,
Saccharine Trust,
Oneida,
Buzzcocks,
Amon Düül,
Wire,
Graham Central Station,
The Neon Judgement,
Mission of Burma,
Public Enemy,
Alison Limerick,
The Slits,
The Cure,
Kurtis Blow,
Bad Manners,
The Victims,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultra Naté,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Index,
Joyce Sims,
Sister Nancy,
Lungfish,
Spoonie Gee,
The Seeds,
Hot Snakes,
Tommy Roe,
The Misunderstood,
Soft Cell,
Hoover,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Swell Maps,
Lou Reed,
U.S. Maple,
Kaleidoscope,
Man Parrish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Guru Guru,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Accadde A,
Rosa Yemen,
Fat Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Brand Nubian,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Womack,
Echospace,
Pagans,
cv313,
Goldenarms,
The Golliwogs,
Letta Mbulu,
Hashim,
The Mummies,
Traffic Nightmare,
Aswad,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.