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 Turkmenistan and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Eve St. Jones to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Glambeats Corp.,
Y Pants,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Blues Magoos,
kango's stein massive,
Nation of Ulysses,
Monolake,
Charles Mingus,
Yazoo,
The Fire Engines,
The Beau Brummels,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aural Exciters,
Reagan Youth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Delta 5,
KRS-One,
F. McDonald,
Jesper Dahlback,
Visage,
Suburban Knight,
Crooked Eye,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ice-T,
Bronski Beat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Little Man,
Joey Negro,
Black Moon,
the Human League,
Brand Nubian,
The Stooges,
Skarface,
The Modern Lovers,
Josef K,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Young Rascals,
Max Romeo,
Tommy Roe,
The Gories,
Deadbeat,
Niagra,
Smog,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Swell Maps,
Deepchord,
The Slackers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Section 25,
MC5,
Ronan,
The Durutti Column,
The Red Krayola,
The Martian,
Derrick May,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ralphi Rosario,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.