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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Thee Headcoats to the funk 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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Graham Central Station,
Maurizio,
Sound Behaviour,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fortunes,
Aaron Thompson,
Dead Boys,
The Gun Club,
Warsaw,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Associates,
Iggy Pop,
Heaven 17,
Spandau Ballet,
Con Funk Shun,
ABC,
Ludus,
Robert Wyatt,
Steve Hackett,
Cecil Taylor,
Dave Gahan,
The New Christs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marshall Jefferson,
Inner City,
K-Klass,
Dennis Brown,
The Mummies,
The Monochrome Set,
The Fall,
Theoretical Girls,
Simply Red,
Adolescents,
Jacob Miller,
Fat Boys,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stetsasonic,
The J.B.'s,
Vladislav Delay,
The Human League,
The Leaves,
AZ,
Scan 7,
Reagan Youth,
Sällskapet,
Hasil Adkins,
Todd Terry,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gerry Rafferty,
Reuben Wilson,
Gabor Szabo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wally Richardson,
Pantaleimon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Robert Hood,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.