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 Manila.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 The United States of America to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
A Certain Ratio,
Minor Threat,
Drexciya,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
T. Rex,
Altered Images,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Faust,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eurythmics,
The Happenings,
Kas Product,
Bill Wells,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sandy B,
K-Klass,
Robert Hood,
Hardrive,
Minny Pops,
The Misunderstood,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Womack,
Inner City,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bootsy Collins,
The Litter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deepchord,
Joe Smooth,
The Real Kids,
Spandau Ballet,
Alphaville,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
X-101,
Spoonie Gee,
Ludus,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Chris & Cosey,
Circle Jerks,
Pierre Henry,
Althea and Donna,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Terry Callier,
Peter and Kerry,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Index,
Susan Cadogan,
John Lydon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wally Richardson,
Byron Stingily,
Eli Mardock,
Graham Central Station,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.