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 Hungary and from Mexico City.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
T. Rex,
The J.B.'s,
Anthony Braxton,
Jandek,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Young Marble Giants,
Index,
Sugar Minott,
The Cowsills,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Tremeloes,
X-102,
Soft Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Marshall Jefferson,
Quadrant,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Saccharine Trust,
Junior Murvin,
Todd Rundgren,
The Young Rascals,
The Real Kids,
Pole,
AZ,
Oblivians,
The Pop Group,
Bootsy Collins,
Icehouse,
Guru Guru,
Unrelated Segments,
R.M.O.,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Boredoms,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
DJ Style,
Mary Jane Girls,
Shoche,
Glambeats Corp.,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Reagan Youth,
Rotary Connection,
Aaron Thompson,
Tom Boy,
Monks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fluxion,
Erasure,
Suicide,
The United States of America,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sight & Sound,
Rites of Spring,
The Beau Brummels,
the Soft Cell,
Little Man,
Isaac Hayes,
Fat Boys,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.