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 Laos and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 Tim Buckley to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Peter and Kerry,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Index,
David Bowie,
Big Daddy Kane,
Camberwell Now,
Pantytec,
Surgeon,
The Dead C,
48th St. Collective,
Eve St. Jones,
Susan Cadogan,
Roy Ayers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
10cc,
Brass Construction,
Black Flag,
The Raincoats,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Sheep,
The Fortunes,
Schoolly D,
The Cowsills,
Ponytail,
The Martian,
The Monks,
John Lydon,
Skaos,
The Skatalites,
Gichy Dan,
The Standells,
Pierre Henry,
Agitation Free,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Graham Central Station,
Hashim,
Dark Day,
Anthony Braxton,
Sex Pistols,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Black Dice,
Outsiders,
the Normal,
CMW,
Jacob Miller,
Brothers Johnson,
Gong,
These Immortal Souls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Magma,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ice-T,
Kas Product,
Kayak,
Lalo Schifrin,
Deadbeat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Buckinghams,
JFA,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.