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 Lesotho and from Milan.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Angry Samoans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Terry Callier,
Radio Birdman,
The Five Americans,
Crash Course in Science,
Freddie Wadling,
Jeff Lynne,
Eddi Front,
Easy Going,
The Fall,
Jawbox,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ronan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
James White and The Blacks,
Cal Tjader,
Leonard Cohen,
Spoonie Gee,
Basic Channel,
Robert Hood,
Reagan Youth,
The Happenings,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fat Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Ornette Coleman,
The Mummies,
Circle Jerks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Thee Headcoats,
Flash Fearless,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Moss Icon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Lydon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yazoo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Black Bananas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
UT,
Oblivians,
Sex Pistols,
Lightning Bolt,
Peter & Gordon,
Faust,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Soft Cell,
Swans,
Livin' Joy,
the Slits,
The Dave Clark Five,
Morten Harket,
Rapeman,
The Monochrome Set,
Hasil Adkins,
The Divine Comedy,
The Kinks,
Blossom Toes,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.