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 Madagascar and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jesper Dahlback to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amazonics,
Fatback Band,
Television,
Juan Atkins,
Rufus Thomas,
Grey Daturas,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fire Engines,
Ice-T,
Index,
Qualms,
The Dead C,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eve St. Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Albert Ayler,
Buzzcocks,
Pussy Galore,
Liliput,
The Happenings,
Barbara Tucker,
Prince Buster,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Harry Pussy,
One Last Wish,
Dead Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pere Ubu,
Trumans Water,
The Gun Club,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Funkadelic,
Man Eating Sloth,
Infiniti,
Davy DMX,
X-Ray Spex,
Bronski Beat,
Banda Bassotti,
Frankie Knuckles,
Public Enemy,
The Velvet Underground,
Marc Almond,
Mo-Dettes,
The Sonics,
Sam Rivers,
FM Einheit,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Standells,
Desert Stars,
The Selecter,
The Busters,
China Crisis,
John Lydon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Procol Harum,
The J.B.'s,
Piero Umiliani,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.