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 Russia and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Brass Construction to the electroclash 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Bauhaus,
Joey Negro,
Kayak,
The Selecter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mark Hollis,
Subhumans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gories,
Monolake,
Make Up,
Technova,
The Victims,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Matthew Halsall,
The Slackers,
The Last Poets,
Morten Harket,
a-ha,
The Busters,
Mo-Dettes,
The Birthday Party,
Half Japanese,
E-Dancer,
Banda Bassotti,
John Coltrane,
Soulsonic Force,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cecil Taylor,
Rosa Yemen,
Essential Logic,
Liliput,
Slave,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Thompson Twins,
Absolute Body Control,
Quantec,
Smog,
Charles Mingus,
Pole,
Symarip,
Danielle Patucci,
Lalann,
Cabaret Voltaire,
DJ Style,
Visage,
Urselle,
New York Dolls,
Metal Thangz,
KRS-One,
Von Mondo,
Buzzcocks,
Cybotron,
Lee Hazlewood,
Los Fastidios,
Chris Corsano,
Black Sheep,
R.M.O.,
Max Romeo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Patti Smith,
Bang On A Can,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.