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 Italy and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Thompson Twins to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Beau Brummels,
Sex Pistols,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Country Teasers,
Liliput,
The American Breed,
Amon Düül,
A Certain Ratio,
Bluetip,
Judy Mowatt,
The Knickerbockers,
The Saints,
Joyce Sims,
Siglo XX,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Evens,
Rekid,
8 Eyed Spy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eli Mardock,
Scion,
Supertramp,
The United States of America,
Sonic Youth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joe Finger,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Camberwell Now,
The Slackers,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Trojans,
AZ,
Danielle Patucci,
Radiohead,
Soul Sonic Force,
X-102,
Hot Snakes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sister Nancy,
The Skatalites,
Pussy Galore,
Delon & Dalcan,
Masters at Work,
The Martian,
Drexciya,
Sixth Finger,
Hasil Adkins,
Scratch Acid,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Aural Exciters,
Nas,
Man Eating Sloth,
ABBA,
Lou Reed,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mr. Review,
Chris Corsano,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.