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 the UAE and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Hot Snakes to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Mark Hollis,
The Blues Magoos,
Morten Harket,
Tears for Fears,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Alphaville,
Motorama,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jacques Brel,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Symarip,
The American Breed,
The Dirtbombs,
Nik Kershaw,
Eddi Front,
Jawbox,
Fela Kuti,
Lindisfarne,
Nick Fraelich,
ABC,
Electric Prunes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Unrelated Segments,
Quando Quango,
Ornette Coleman,
Arab on Radar,
Drexciya,
AZ,
Arthur Verocai,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Trojans,
Man Parrish,
Quantec,
Girls At Our Best!,
Johnny Clarke,
Technova,
Anakelly,
Funkadelic,
Dawn Penn,
Rotary Connection,
Delon & Dalcan,
Faraquet,
The United States of America,
The Move,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Pus,
Stereo Dub,
Matthew Halsall,
Charles Mingus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Supertramp,
Unwound,
Lou Christie,
The Names,
Michelle Simonal,
Agitation Free,
The Flesh Eaters,
Neil Young,
Minutemen,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.