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 Moldova and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Eric Copeland to the electroclash 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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Public Enemy,
Animal Collective,
the Fania All-Stars,
Andrew Hill,
Bush Tetras,
Ice-T,
Neu!,
The Last Poets,
Ronan,
Liliput,
Pantytec,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bob Dylan,
Kool Moe Dee,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cymande,
Suicide,
Newcleus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Man Parrish,
Jeff Lynne,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Association,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Index,
The Golliwogs,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Idris Muhammad,
Zapp,
Rites of Spring,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
John Foxx,
Y Pants,
Althea and Donna,
Average White Band,
L. Decosne,
Barry Ungar,
The Walker Brothers,
Sister Nancy,
Radiohead,
Lightning Bolt,
kango's stein massive,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Crime,
Amazonics,
Loose Ends,
Slick Rick,
The Buckinghams,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tomorrow,
The Five Americans,
Jeff Mills,
Country Teasers,
Marine Girls,
The Cramps,
Peter and Kerry,
The Litter,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.