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 Tonga and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord 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 JFA to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Sonny Sharrock,
New Age Steppers,
H. Thieme,
The Fortunes,
Reagan Youth,
Moby Grape,
Panda Bear,
T.S.O.L.,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crispian St. Peters,
Josef K,
The Gories,
MC5,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Byrd,
Roger Hodgson,
Roxy Music,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cramps,
Hoover,
James White and The Blacks,
Yazoo,
Marvin Gaye,
Make Up,
Newcleus,
Youth Brigade,
Sight & Sound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Cale,
The Leaves,
The Doors,
K-Klass,
Pantytec,
Sex Pistols,
New Order,
Eurythmics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mr. Review,
F. McDonald,
Aswad,
Radiopuhelimet,
Country Teasers,
Rufus Thomas,
Spandau Ballet,
Minutemen,
Smog,
Glenn Branca,
Jandek,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Swans,
The Blues Magoos,
Brand Nubian,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Metal Thangz,
Brass Construction,
Marc Almond,
Q and Not U,
Essential Logic,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.