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 Armenia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 New York Dolls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Ituana,
Spandau Ballet,
Von Mondo,
Roger Hodgson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
AZ,
Deakin,
Easy Going,
Skaos,
Anthony Braxton,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sonny Sharrock,
Maurizio,
Lyres,
Blossom Toes,
Slave,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Gladiators,
Crime,
The Saints,
The Buckinghams,
The Moleskins,
Derrick Morgan,
World's Most,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Skatalites,
Crash Course in Science,
Pole,
Fear,
Sam Rivers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chris Corsano,
The Monks,
CMW,
the Germs,
John Foxx,
The Real Kids,
Circle Jerks,
Barrington Levy,
Lakeside,
Blake Baxter,
JFA,
Sparks,
Newcleus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rakim,
Lou Christie,
The Fire Engines,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Toasters,
Underground Resistance,
Matthew Halsall,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Misunderstood,
Scott Walker,
Average White Band,
Outsiders,
The Cramps,
Masters at Work,
Josef K,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Aloha Tigers,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.