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 Tajikistan and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marcia Griffiths to the rap 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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Joe Finger,
Suicide,
Man Parrish,
Sällskapet,
Schoolly D,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ornette Coleman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Amazonics,
Maurizio,
Sixth Finger,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bill Near,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bootsy Collins,
Patti Smith,
Harry Pussy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Saccharine Trust,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David Axelrod,
Zero Boys,
Ultravox,
The Slackers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tres Demented,
Connie Case,
The Litter,
Motorama,
Yellowson,
Joy Division,
The Fall,
Morten Harket,
Ralphi Rosario,
Brothers Johnson,
Country Teasers,
Neil Young,
Arthur Verocai,
The Remains,
Ultra Naté,
Pussy Galore,
Fluxion,
Au Pairs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Max Romeo,
Accadde A,
Von Mondo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lightning Bolt,
kango's stein massive,
Nick Fraelich,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jacques Brel,
Swans,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.