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 Luxembourg and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Electric Prunes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Idris Muhammad,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
June of 44,
The Remains,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sandy B,
Peter and Kerry,
Nico,
Prince Buster,
The Last Poets,
Pharoah Sanders,
Trumans Water,
MC5,
The Slackers,
The Fall,
Agitation Free,
Gang Gang Dance,
James White and The Blacks,
Scratch Acid,
Gichy Dan,
Rites of Spring,
Subhumans,
Ohio Players,
Blossom Toes,
The Happenings,
ABC,
Underground Resistance,
Pere Ubu,
DNA,
Flipper,
Crash Course in Science,
Faust,
Rosa Yemen,
Wasted Youth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Bananas,
Echospace,
Blake Baxter,
Joe Finger,
Circle Jerks,
Popol Vuh,
Althea and Donna,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Foxx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
AZ,
Lungfish,
Ken Boothe,
Severed Heads,
The Walker Brothers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Average White Band,
The Toasters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soulsonic Force,
Bang On A Can,
A Certain Ratio,
Barry Ungar,
Derrick May,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.