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 Sweden and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Adolescents to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Icehouse,
Shoche,
Moebius,
Quando Quango,
Suburban Knight,
Amon Düül II,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fortunes,
The Litter,
Todd Terry,
Drexciya,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sam Rivers,
Urselle,
Rufus Thomas,
Cybotron,
Depeche Mode,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cure,
Pet Shop Boys,
Juan Atkins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mark Hollis,
Sällskapet,
Hardrive,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pylon,
Arthur Verocai,
Scan 7,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Warren Ellis,
Inner City,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultravox,
Man Parrish,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kerri Chandler,
The Last Poets,
Eurythmics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Aloha Tigers,
The Durutti Column,
The Motions,
The Moleskins,
Dark Day,
Donald Byrd,
Groovy Waters,
Fatback Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Darondo,
Can,
The Pop Group,
Clear Light,
Oblivians,
Isaac Hayes,
Roger Hodgson,
Silicon Teens,
U.S. Maple,
Lightning Bolt,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.