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 Kuwait and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Newcleus to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Moss Icon,
Spoonie Gee,
Byron Stingily,
The Gladiators,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rites of Spring,
Technova,
Terry Callier,
Mars,
Y Pants,
Crispian St. Peters,
Josef K,
David Bowie,
Glenn Branca,
The Smiths,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jimmy McGriff,
Spandau Ballet,
John Lydon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
JFA,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Max Romeo,
The Gap Band,
Model 500,
the Normal,
Soulsonic Force,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The American Breed,
These Immortal Souls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Blake Baxter,
Faraquet,
Kerri Chandler,
the Germs,
Susan Cadogan,
Sun Ra,
Joe Smooth,
Minutemen,
Drexciya,
Ten City,
The Moleskins,
Barbara Tucker,
Mantronix,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Doobie Brothers,
Quantec,
Brand Nubian,
Cecil Taylor,
Panda Bear,
Fatback Band,
Minor Threat,
KRS-One,
Tomorrow,
The Vogues,
Adolescents,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.