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 Malaysia and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The New Christs to the crunk 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Livin' Joy,
The Saints,
Gong,
Soul Sonic Force,
David Bowie,
Minny Pops,
Black Sheep,
Fela Kuti,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Niagra,
China Crisis,
The Monks,
Unrelated Segments,
Crispian St. Peters,
Spandau Ballet,
Suburban Knight,
Howard Jones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Smoke,
Robert Hood,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
New Order,
Newcleus,
Hashim,
Wally Richardson,
Masters at Work,
The Beau Brummels,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Moebius,
B.T. Express,
The Fortunes,
Accadde A,
Soft Cell,
The Slits,
Zero Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Terry Callier,
Zapp,
Moby Grape,
Lungfish,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
CMW,
Dark Day,
Sam Rivers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Electric Prunes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deakin,
La Düsseldorf,
Supertramp,
Fugazi,
The Gladiators,
Thee Headcoats,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alison Limerick,
Desert Stars,
The Shadows of Knight,
FM Einheit,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Arab on Radar,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.