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 Philippines and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the electroclash 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
The Cure,
Sister Nancy,
Neu!,
The Vogues,
The Remains,
The Evens,
The Last Poets,
Sällskapet,
Skriet,
Nas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lakeside,
June of 44,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kayak,
Skaos,
Matthew Bourne,
Depeche Mode,
Brothers Johnson,
Schoolly D,
Absolute Body Control,
The Zeros,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Barracudas,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Dead C,
Howard Jones,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Velvet Underground,
Wasted Youth,
Los Fastidios,
Pere Ubu,
The Associates,
Audionom,
Yellowson,
Sexual Harrassment,
La Düsseldorf,
Lalo Schifrin,
Talk Talk,
Eric Copeland,
Connie Case,
Sarah Menescal,
Half Japanese,
The Electric Prunes,
Alison Limerick,
Marc Almond,
Prince Buster,
Gang Starr,
Lyres,
Joe Finger,
Sun City Girls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crime,
The Durutti Column,
Masters at Work,
Freddie Wadling,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.