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 Yemen and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
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 clarinet 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 Black Bananas to the techno 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Josef K,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Oneida,
Marc Almond,
Agent Orange,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Divine Comedy,
Amon Düül II,
Visage,
Sam Rivers,
The Golliwogs,
The Monochrome Set,
The Techniques,
Second Layer,
Mary Jane Girls,
Supertramp,
Flash Fearless,
Stetsasonic,
Morten Harket,
The Standells,
Barbara Tucker,
Scan 7,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Todd Rundgren,
Howard Jones,
Carl Craig,
John Cale,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
D'Angelo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Alice Coltrane,
Spoonie Gee,
Connie Case,
PIL,
Prince Buster,
Swans,
The Mojo Men,
the Human League,
Nas,
Mandrill,
Arab on Radar,
Eden Ahbez,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Shuggie Otis,
Johnny Osbourne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Y Pants,
Camouflage,
Jandek,
Brand Nubian,
Gichy Dan,
The Modern Lovers,
Kurtis Blow,
Terry Callier,
Althea and Donna,
The Martian,
Spandau Ballet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jeff Lynne,
Lou Reed,
Neu!,
Fat Boys,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.