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 Thailand and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 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 Quantec to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
MDC,
the Germs,
Interpol,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sparks,
Radio Birdman,
Talk Talk,
Tomorrow,
The Electric Prunes,
Dark Day,
Skriet,
Delta 5,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grauzone,
Wally Richardson,
The Selecter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Swans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Suburban Knight,
Fat Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Black Sheep,
Scientists,
Kevin Saunderson,
Juan Atkins,
Crime,
Boredoms,
The Moleskins,
James White and The Blacks,
CMW,
The Standells,
David McCallum,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Robert Wyatt,
Iggy Pop,
Ultra Naté,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Grey Daturas,
Absolute Body Control,
The Beau Brummels,
Rapeman,
The Names,
Nick Fraelich,
The Raincoats,
Scion,
The Red Krayola,
B.T. Express,
the Soft Cell,
Easy Going,
Drexciya,
Cameo,
Joe Smooth,
Tim Buckley,
The Alarm Clocks,
The United States of America,
Liliput,
Donny Hathaway,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Association,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.