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 Mongolia 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Lower 48,
Los Fastidios,
X-Ray Spex,
the Normal,
Cameo,
Gichy Dan,
Marine Girls,
Excepter,
Grey Daturas,
The Pop Group,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lakeside,
L. Decosne,
The Smiths,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Faraquet,
The Dirtbombs,
Moss Icon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tommy Roe,
Symarip,
The Detroit Cobras,
Matthew Halsall,
Tom Boy,
Jacob Miller,
Visage,
One Last Wish,
10cc,
Lucky Dragons,
Kool Moe Dee,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Von Mondo,
Kas Product,
Bush Tetras,
Funky Four + One,
The Wake,
Basic Channel,
The Modern Lovers,
Model 500,
Neil Young,
Kaleidoscope,
Faust,
Magazine,
Gang Green,
Henry Cow,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Residents,
Arab on Radar,
Quando Quango,
Lou Reed,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Barbara Tucker,
Brothers Johnson,
The Gladiators,
The Last Poets,
Marcia Griffiths,
Chrome,
The Gories,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.