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 Somalia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flamin' Groovies,
Idris Muhammad,
Underground Resistance,
The Dirtbombs,
Robert Hood,
Television,
Isaac Hayes,
PIL,
Marine Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Blake Baxter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rakim,
Lalann,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Gories,
Cymande,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ice-T,
Bobby Sherman,
Arthur Verocai,
Pole,
Faust,
David Bowie,
Das Ding,
Mo-Dettes,
Ohio Players,
Black Sheep,
Index,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minor Threat,
Public Image Ltd.,
Quantec,
Soulsonic Force,
The Raincoats,
Marc Almond,
Joey Negro,
Black Pus,
Peter and Kerry,
Interpol,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Martian,
Q65,
Qualms,
Black Flag,
Ultra Naté,
Oneida,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Aural Exciters,
Eli Mardock,
The Blues Magoos,
The Vogues,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Chrome,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Durutti Column,
Audionom,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.