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 Cambodia and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Happenings to the techno 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
MC5,
Thee Headcoats,
David McCallum,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ten City,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kayak,
The Pretty Things,
The Fall,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
La Düsseldorf,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lakeside,
Spandau Ballet,
The Gap Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Nico,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kool Moe Dee,
Matthew Halsall,
Agitation Free,
Eric B and Rakim,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Last Poets,
Nirvana,
Ossler,
Kaleidoscope,
Sixth Finger,
Erasure,
Bobby Womack,
The Star Department,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Freddie Wadling,
Colin Newman,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
10cc,
Yusef Lateef,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Vladislav Delay,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jacob Miller,
The United States of America,
Bob Dylan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Slackers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Blossom Toes,
Rekid,
Charles Mingus,
Flipper,
Tropical Tobacco,
DNA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eurythmics,
The Walker Brothers,
Minor Threat,
DJ Sneak,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.