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 Portugal and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator 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 Desert Stars to the jazz 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
Eric Dolphy,
Khruangbin,
The Beau Brummels,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Bananas,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dead Boys,
E-Dancer,
Amon Düül,
Pulsallama,
Piero Umiliani,
Hashim,
DJ Sneak,
Kenny Larkin,
Motorama,
Qualms,
John Foxx,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Intrusion,
Arab on Radar,
Harry Pussy,
Ultravox,
Sixth Finger,
Erasure,
Gabor Szabo,
The Slackers,
Au Pairs,
Faraquet,
Ken Boothe,
Toni Rubio,
Alton Ellis,
This Heat,
Bob Dylan,
Donald Byrd,
UT,
Flipper,
The Velvet Underground,
Tres Demented,
Henry Cow,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Traffic Nightmare,
Warsaw,
Agent Orange,
David McCallum,
Desert Stars,
Minutemen,
Josef K,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Young Rascals,
Television,
The Slits,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Man Parrish,
Y Pants,
Eve St. Jones,
The American Breed,
Alison Limerick,
Faust,
Gil Scott Heron,
H. Thieme,
MDC,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.