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 Mongolia and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Banda Bassotti to the grunge 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
James White and The Blacks,
Sugar Minott,
Sex Pistols,
Rekid,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Camberwell Now,
Johnny Clarke,
Ronnie Foster,
Half Japanese,
Brick,
D'Angelo,
Tropical Tobacco,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pet Shop Boys,
Shoche,
Kaleidoscope,
Tears for Fears,
Kurtis Blow,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Deepchord,
The Slits,
The Invisible,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Dead C,
Malaria!,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Depeche Mode,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joy Division,
Rod Modell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Busters,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Techniques,
Prince Buster,
Grey Daturas,
The Flesh Eaters,
MC5,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scion,
Don Cherry,
Cecil Taylor,
a-ha,
Neu!,
Q65,
The Doors,
Gabor Szabo,
Amazonics,
Soul Sonic Force,
Arthur Verocai,
Barbara Tucker,
Crispian St. Peters,
Easy Going,
The Motions,
Soft Cell,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Germs,
Alice Coltrane,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.