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 Netherlands and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones 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?
Donald Byrd,
Drexciya,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pet Shop Boys,
Goldenarms,
John Coltrane,
The Walker Brothers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pulsallama,
Jimmy McGriff,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joy Division,
Little Man,
The Selecter,
Cameo,
Banda Bassotti,
Pantaleimon,
The Pretty Things,
Motorama,
Crooked Eye,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Iggy Pop,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Slick Rick,
The Names,
Gang of Four,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nick Fraelich,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Chris & Cosey,
Jeru the Damaja,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Half Japanese,
Skriet,
Michelle Simonal,
Robert Wyatt,
Sex Pistols,
Neil Young,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Niagra,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Saints,
Joe Smooth,
Silicon Teens,
Junior Murvin,
Ultravox,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sonic Youth,
Youth Brigade,
Sandy B,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yaz,
Lakeside,
Warren Ellis,
The Toasters,
48th St. Collective,
Kaleidoscope,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Shoche,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.