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 United Kingdom and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Evens to the techno 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Lower 48,
Freddie Wadling,
Boogie Down Productions,
Harmonia,
Organ,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Slits,
Mad Mike,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Aaron Thompson,
Brass Construction,
Swans,
Adolescents,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Walker Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Schoolly D,
Nas,
B.T. Express,
Marc Almond,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Motions,
Index,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Altered Images,
One Last Wish,
Cal Tjader,
John Holt,
Godley & Creme,
John Coltrane,
The Zeros,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Dead C,
The Offenders,
EPMD,
Can,
In Retrospect,
Harpers Bizarre,
Yellowson,
New York Dolls,
Country Teasers,
the Normal,
Black Moon,
Sarah Menescal,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kenny Larkin,
Davy DMX,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Alarm Clocks,
Babytalk,
ABC,
Fat Boys,
Wolf Eyes,
T. Rex,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Association,
Shoche,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.