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 Ukraine and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Tom Boy to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Japan,
Intrusion,
Dual Sessions,
Vladislav Delay,
Symarip,
Soul II Soul,
The Selecter,
Laurel Aitken,
Radio Birdman,
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Urselle,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sixth Finger,
Public Enemy,
Niagra,
The Moleskins,
Gang of Four,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minutemen,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fluxion,
Drexciya,
Godley & Creme,
Babytalk,
Swans,
World's Most,
Rites of Spring,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Stooges,
Skarface,
Dark Day,
Rapeman,
Bob Dylan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wolf Eyes,
Alphaville,
Scientists,
The Happenings,
Banda Bassotti,
Patti Smith,
Amon Düül,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Make Up,
the Slits,
Silicon Teens,
Unrelated Segments,
Andrew Hill,
A Flock of Seagulls,
T.S.O.L.,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
X-Ray Spex,
F. McDonald,
Scrapy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bang On A Can,
The Alarm Clocks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Soft Machine,
Grandmaster Flash,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.