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 Denmark and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar 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 The Mojo Men to the funk 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Babytalk,
Yellowson,
Kool Moe Dee,
8 Eyed Spy,
Godley & Creme,
Zapp,
Radiohead,
Mandrill,
Anthony Braxton,
Blossom Toes,
Quadrant,
Khruangbin,
Judy Mowatt,
Mad Mike,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Electric Prunes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bill Near,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Animal Collective,
The Monochrome Set,
The Five Americans,
F. McDonald,
Outsiders,
Procol Harum,
Minor Threat,
The Count Five,
Public Enemy,
The Gories,
Ronan,
New York Dolls,
Laurel Aitken,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
This Heat,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
CMW,
Wire,
Inner City,
Sam Rivers,
Infiniti,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Freddie Wadling,
cv313,
Terry Callier,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ludus,
Crime,
Henry Cow,
Television,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rapeman,
Brothers Johnson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fear,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
John Holt,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Red Krayola,
The Detroit Cobras,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.