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 North and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 The Slits to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Soulsonic Force,
LL Cool J,
New Age Steppers,
Joy Division,
Fad Gadget,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
L. Decosne,
Nick Fraelich,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Hasil Adkins,
Prince Buster,
Throbbing Gristle,
Quadrant,
Rekid,
The Remains,
Jeff Lynne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Robert Hood,
Sun City Girls,
The Mummies,
Con Funk Shun,
Wally Richardson,
Amon Düül II,
Rosa Yemen,
Janne Schatter,
Pere Ubu,
Reuben Wilson,
John Holt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Magma,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Flamin' Groovies,
Skarface,
Arcadia,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Boz Scaggs,
Hoover,
Duran Duran,
Archie Shepp,
The Golliwogs,
Mad Mike,
John Foxx,
Soft Cell,
John Coltrane,
Pulsallama,
Albert Ayler,
A Certain Ratio,
Trumans Water,
Donald Byrd,
Gabor Szabo,
D'Angelo,
Icehouse,
Ultra Naté,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Underground Resistance,
Qualms,
the Soft Cell,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bluetip,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.