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 Japan and from Madrid.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Lou Reed to the funk 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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Grey Daturas,
Dead Boys,
Moby Grape,
The Offenders,
Stiv Bators,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bob Dylan,
The Cramps,
Echospace,
the Sonics,
Babytalk,
the Bar-Kays,
Marmalade,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ponytail,
Cheater Slicks,
The Slits,
Kurtis Blow,
Bang On A Can,
JFA,
Jesper Dahlback,
DJ Style,
Au Pairs,
Intrusion,
Crash Course in Science,
The Moleskins,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Angry Samoans,
Eli Mardock,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nils Olav,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Alice Coltrane,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bauhaus,
The Angels of Light,
Saccharine Trust,
Brothers Johnson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gabor Szabo,
David McCallum,
David Axelrod,
The Blues Magoos,
Grauzone,
Ice-T,
Quantec,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wings,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Janne Schatter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
These Immortal Souls,
New Order,
Sun City Girls,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.