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 Guinea and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Idris Muhammad to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nick Fraelich,
The Count Five,
Traffic Nightmare,
Con Funk Shun,
The Modern Lovers,
Technova,
Harmonia,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chrome,
The Litter,
Youth Brigade,
a-ha,
The Moleskins,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Gap Band,
Iggy Pop,
Average White Band,
Colin Newman,
Hardrive,
Das Ding,
Neu!,
Gang of Four,
The Walker Brothers,
The Cramps,
Warsaw,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fugs,
L. Decosne,
Robert Görl,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bobby Sherman,
Charles Mingus,
Fat Boys,
Maurizio,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Joe Finger,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
New Age Steppers,
Moby Grape,
Infiniti,
The Beau Brummels,
Max Romeo,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Busters,
Rapeman,
OOIOO,
Matthew Bourne,
Nik Kershaw,
Accadde A,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kerrie Biddell,
Junior Murvin,
Thee Headcoats,
MDC,
KRS-One,
John Coltrane,
The Standells,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.