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 Namibia and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Move to the grunge 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
The Pretty Things,
the Soft Cell,
Pussy Galore,
R.M.O.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Moss Icon,
Hashim,
Barry Ungar,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Monks,
Hoover,
the Fania All-Stars,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Dead C,
David Axelrod,
Camberwell Now,
The Velvet Underground,
Bad Manners,
Derrick May,
Nik Kershaw,
Radiopuhelimet,
Joe Smooth,
Joensuu 1685,
Lalo Schifrin,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ten City,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Zeros,
the Human League,
Kaleidoscope,
Cal Tjader,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joy Division,
The Residents,
Sällskapet,
Nas,
Oblivians,
Ludus,
The Dave Clark Five,
David McCallum,
The Doors,
Massinfluence,
The Young Rascals,
Parry Music,
Amazonics,
Glenn Branca,
Lee Hazlewood,
Michelle Simonal,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Colin Newman,
The Buckinghams,
Marvin Gaye,
Arab on Radar,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
U.S. Maple,
Franke,
D'Angelo,
Saccharine Trust,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.