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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 clarinet 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 Minnie Riperton to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Mr. Review,
Donald Byrd,
The Real Kids,
Bob Dylan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alphaville,
The Count Five,
Outsiders,
Jesper Dahlback,
Alice Coltrane,
Swell Maps,
H. Thieme,
Moby Grape,
Cecil Taylor,
Jeff Lynne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tom Boy,
Susan Cadogan,
Mandrill,
Khruangbin,
Goldenarms,
Quantec,
The Martian,
Funkadelic,
Tomorrow,
John Lydon,
Public Enemy,
Heaven 17,
Rites of Spring,
The Residents,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Camouflage,
Mars,
Agent Orange,
Pole,
Blancmange,
Nik Kershaw,
Niagra,
Maurizio,
Pussy Galore,
the Slits,
The Fugs,
Kerri Chandler,
Grauzone,
Cheater Slicks,
Panda Bear,
the Association,
Boogie Down Productions,
Piero Umiliani,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
DNA,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hoover,
the Swans,
Livin' Joy,
Henry Cow,
Das Ding,
Johnny Clarke,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.