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 Moldova and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Quando Quango to the electroclash 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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soulsonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Circle Jerks,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Neu!,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Raincoats,
Lou Christie,
Aswad,
Gong,
Bush Tetras,
The Real Kids,
Brick,
The Moleskins,
Big Daddy Kane,
Livin' Joy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Agitation Free,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tommy Roe,
Surgeon,
Crime,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jacques Brel,
Fela Kuti,
Freddie Wadling,
The United States of America,
The Beau Brummels,
Susan Cadogan,
The Residents,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Clear Light,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Delta 5,
Nils Olav,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Neon Judgement,
The Young Rascals,
Absolute Body Control,
Ituana,
The Gladiators,
Iggy Pop,
Lakeside,
JFA,
Procol Harum,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bauhaus,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eddi Front,
Duran Duran,
Kaleidoscope,
Faust,
Lower 48,
Davy DMX,
The Seeds,
Suburban Knight,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Darondo,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.