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 Ghana and from New York.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 A Certain Ratio to the dance 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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Flash Fearless,
World's Most,
These Immortal Souls,
Adolescents,
Sarah Menescal,
David Bowie,
Tears for Fears,
James White and The Blacks,
T. Rex,
Pantaleimon,
Joey Negro,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gichy Dan,
The Doors,
Lalann,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harry Pussy,
Marc Almond,
Don Cherry,
Soulsonic Force,
Kerri Chandler,
Reuben Wilson,
Scan 7,
June Days,
Los Fastidios,
Ituana,
Charles Mingus,
Lindisfarne,
Piero Umiliani,
Urselle,
The Beau Brummels,
Hot Snakes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Swell Maps,
Bluetip,
Gang Gang Dance,
China Crisis,
Crispy Ambulance,
Archie Shepp,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Misunderstood,
DNA,
Ten City,
Qualms,
LL Cool J,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dead Boys,
Althea and Donna,
Deadbeat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Shadows of Knight,
Camberwell Now,
Nils Olav,
Hardrive,
The Sonics,
Metal Thangz,
Blake Baxter,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.