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 Slovakia and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sonny Sharrock to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Henry Cow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Y Pants,
Qualms,
Maurizio,
Stetsasonic,
Bush Tetras,
The Skatalites,
a-ha,
Don Cherry,
Yazoo,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Cybotron,
Banda Bassotti,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quando Quango,
Cabaret Voltaire,
LL Cool J,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nirvana,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang Green,
Guru Guru,
U.S. Maple,
Fatback Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Electric Prunes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Christie,
Blake Baxter,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Busters,
Altered Images,
Urselle,
Joey Negro,
Wings,
Byron Stingily,
Radiohead,
Lower 48,
Laurel Aitken,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Leaves,
China Crisis,
Adolescents,
Sam Rivers,
Suburban Knight,
Sight & Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soul Sonic Force,
Morten Harket,
The Monochrome Set,
Khruangbin,
Pussy Galore,
Derrick May,
kango's stein massive,
The Evens,
June of 44,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.