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 Senegal and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Gichy Dan,
Chris Corsano,
Roxette,
Jerry's Kids,
MC5,
Black Sheep,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Das Ding,
Rakim,
Tommy Roe,
T. Rex,
Khruangbin,
Cymande,
Sarah Menescal,
Marc Almond,
Visage,
The Happenings,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sight & Sound,
Babytalk,
Swell Maps,
Porter Ricks,
The Dirtbombs,
Kerri Chandler,
Jeff Lynne,
Symarip,
The Fortunes,
Brothers Johnson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Amon Düül II,
The Dead C,
Sixth Finger,
The Walker Brothers,
Easy Going,
Terry Callier,
Minutemen,
Lou Christie,
Faraquet,
Joyce Sims,
Suburban Knight,
Bill Wells,
The Mojo Men,
Warren Ellis,
Juan Atkins,
Radio Birdman,
Pulsallama,
Nils Olav,
U.S. Maple,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Vladislav Delay,
World's Most,
Fatback Band,
Ten City,
Scion,
June Days,
Eyeless In Gaza,
H. Thieme,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Saints,
These Immortal Souls,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.