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 Pakistan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the rap 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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
These Immortal Souls,
Lindisfarne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Livin' Joy,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Young Rascals,
the Slits,
Skaos,
Sugar Minott,
MDC,
The American Breed,
The Offenders,
Eddi Front,
Godley & Creme,
Radio Birdman,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Doobie Brothers,
Yellowson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fluxion,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Josef K,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Searchers,
Max Romeo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ten City,
Matthew Halsall,
Robert Görl,
Blancmange,
Marcia Griffiths,
Youth Brigade,
Babytalk,
Inner City,
Masters at Work,
Brand Nubian,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mo-Dettes,
The Blackbyrds,
Heaven 17,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
T. Rex,
Dead Boys,
Steve Hackett,
The Fortunes,
The Grass Roots,
The Neon Judgement,
Anakelly,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jerry Gold Smith,
In Retrospect,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Barrington Levy,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Sherman,
Shoche,
The Gladiators,
Ronnie Foster,
Nick Fraelich,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.