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 Croatia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Tim Buckley to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Aswad,
Mark Hollis,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nas,
Spandau Ballet,
Y Pants,
Ornette Coleman,
Pere Ubu,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Selecter,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tres Demented,
Brand Nubian,
John Foxx,
John Holt,
Country Teasers,
Eric Copeland,
Franke,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camouflage,
Wings,
Joensuu 1685,
Sonic Youth,
Crash Course in Science,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Parry Music,
Black Flag,
Silicon Teens,
The Golliwogs,
The Busters,
Zero Boys,
Steve Hackett,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Sherman,
Scion,
Audionom,
Jeff Lynne,
The Last Poets,
Cluster,
Dawn Penn,
Ice-T,
The Count Five,
Intrusion,
Trumans Water,
Liliput,
Cecil Taylor,
The Mummies,
Accadde A,
Moby Grape,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gap Band,
Robert Görl,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fear,
Tom Boy,
Thee Headcoats,
Deepchord,
Susan Cadogan,
The Music Machine,
Faraquet,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.