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 Comoros and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Terry Callier to the grime 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Audionom 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?
Gastr Del Sol,
Second Layer,
Camberwell Now,
Black Moon,
Little Man,
The Residents,
Crooked Eye,
Arab on Radar,
Freddie Wadling,
Cybotron,
Urselle,
Fugazi,
Brass Construction,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lyres,
Minutemen,
Zapp,
Blancmange,
UT,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pet Shop Boys,
Delta 5,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Supertramp,
Neil Young,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bluetip,
Gong,
Guru Guru,
Nick Fraelich,
Spoonie Gee,
The American Breed,
Newcleus,
Surgeon,
The Count Five,
Morten Harket,
The Modern Lovers,
Slick Rick,
Black Pus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bill Wells,
Cymande,
David Axelrod,
Crispian St. Peters,
Susan Cadogan,
The Sonics,
Youth Brigade,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Warren Ellis,
T. Rex,
Traffic Nightmare,
Derrick Morgan,
X-102,
Matthew Bourne,
Porter Ricks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
L. Decosne,
Q and Not U,
Faraquet,
Isaac Hayes,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.