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 Nigeria and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Lalann to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Robert Hood,
The Residents,
Bang On A Can,
Glenn Branca,
The American Breed,
James White and The Blacks,
Eurythmics,
The Dave Clark Five,
Derrick May,
Laurel Aitken,
Camberwell Now,
Deadbeat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
T. Rex,
The Blues Magoos,
Sam Rivers,
Michelle Simonal,
Crooked Eye,
New York Dolls,
the Human League,
Faraquet,
Man Parrish,
Absolute Body Control,
Bad Manners,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scion,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sonics,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Pretty Things,
Liliput,
The Saints,
Dawn Penn,
Panda Bear,
Animal Collective,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Boz Scaggs,
Au Pairs,
Pagans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Flag,
Flipper,
The Monks,
Saccharine Trust,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Gap Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Franke,
The Happenings,
Oneida,
The Cramps,
Joe Smooth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Avey Tare,
The Stooges,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.