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 Saudi Arabia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Shanghai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 spring reverb 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 Gerry Rafferty to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
Pere Ubu,
Roxette,
The Beau Brummels,
Nirvana,
Dawn Penn,
Subhumans,
The Monks,
Depeche Mode,
The Alarm Clocks,
Graham Central Station,
Danielle Patucci,
Public Enemy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
David Bowie,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Althea and Donna,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Divine Comedy,
Talk Talk,
Thee Headcoats,
Tim Buckley,
H. Thieme,
Marmalade,
Lucky Dragons,
Dark Day,
Marine Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
Yellowson,
Ituana,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Skaos,
Make Up,
L. Decosne,
The Trojans,
Quando Quango,
Altered Images,
Quadrant,
Massinfluence,
The Birthday Party,
Bobbi Humphrey,
One Last Wish,
Wolf Eyes,
The Star Department,
Pantytec,
Visage,
Stiv Bators,
Cecil Taylor,
Unwound,
Brothers Johnson,
Warsaw,
Deadbeat,
Rod Modell,
Nils Olav,
The Leaves,
Todd Terry,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.