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 Uganda and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Curtis Mayfield to the grime 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
The Litter,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
June Days,
48th St. Collective,
Connie Case,
Donald Byrd,
Faust,
a-ha,
Black Bananas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
X-101,
Absolute Body Control,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Blossom Toes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Davy DMX,
Cheater Slicks,
Derrick May,
Lou Christie,
Mars,
Reagan Youth,
Albert Ayler,
Dave Gahan,
Electric Prunes,
Lalann,
Tommy Roe,
Country Teasers,
Funkadelic,
Spandau Ballet,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Birthday Party,
Lee Hazlewood,
DNA,
Jawbox,
Pylon,
Make Up,
Ludus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
EPMD,
Interpol,
Television,
Pierre Henry,
Schoolly D,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alice Coltrane,
Scratch Acid,
Alison Limerick,
Hardrive,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Dead C,
Johnny Osbourne,
Niagra,
Youth Brigade,
The Gun Club,
Organ,
Moss Icon,
These Immortal Souls,
Minnie Riperton,
Duran Duran,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.