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 Korea South and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Ken Boothe,
Swans,
Idris Muhammad,
Talk Talk,
James White and The Blacks,
Model 500,
The Flesh Eaters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scientists,
Blake Baxter,
Hasil Adkins,
Glenn Branca,
Pet Shop Boys,
R.M.O.,
Howard Jones,
Warren Ellis,
Funkadelic,
Eric Copeland,
Bush Tetras,
The Stooges,
the Soft Cell,
Radio Birdman,
Don Cherry,
Sound Behaviour,
Cybotron,
Arcadia,
X-Ray Spex,
Yaz,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Malaria!,
L. Decosne,
Soft Cell,
John Cale,
Harmonia,
Babytalk,
Altered Images,
Reuben Wilson,
Minny Pops,
New Order,
Joyce Sims,
Deepchord,
Pylon,
Qualms,
Los Fastidios,
Andrew Hill,
Von Mondo,
Archie Shepp,
Sixth Finger,
Amazonics,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cymande,
Sandy B,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Siglo XX,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stiv Bators,
Mars,
Brass Construction,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.