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 Iran and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Manila and Hong Kong.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Stooges to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ronan. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
L. Decosne,
Freddie Wadling,
Niagra,
The Grass Roots,
Television,
Jacques Brel,
Eve St. Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rufus Thomas,
David Bowie,
Oblivians,
The Leaves,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Skaos,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Porter Ricks,
John Foxx,
Wings,
Mark Hollis,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sister Nancy,
The Mojo Men,
Tomorrow,
Sun City Girls,
Eric Copeland,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
New York Dolls,
Guru Guru,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Livin' Joy,
the Slits,
Ten City,
Nik Kershaw,
Arthur Verocai,
Loose Ends,
Fad Gadget,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Suicide,
Oneida,
Minnie Riperton,
Index,
Faraquet,
Bush Tetras,
Second Layer,
Desert Stars,
Cal Tjader,
The Real Kids,
Minor Threat,
the Sonics,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jeff Mills,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sandy B,
Scan 7,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.