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 Kenya and from New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 Angels of Light to the grunge 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultra Naté,
Heaven 17,
Jerry's Kids,
Flipper,
Monks,
Groovy Waters,
The Cowsills,
Fela Kuti,
Malaria!,
The Fugs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Neu!,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Dennis Brown,
Bronski Beat,
The Skatalites,
Blake Baxter,
Derrick Morgan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pagans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sparks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Piero Umiliani,
Scientists,
Eurythmics,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Qualms,
Talk Talk,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Funky Four + One,
Cecil Taylor,
Erykah Badu,
Joy Division,
The United States of America,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brand Nubian,
Soul II Soul,
Wire,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Chris Corsano,
Lyres,
L. Decosne,
Carl Craig,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lalann,
Roxette,
Bobby Womack,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sight & Sound,
Mission of Burma,
Infiniti,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Misunderstood,
Eric B and Rakim,
Prince Buster,
Pharoah Sanders,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Standells,
The Alarm Clocks,
Aswad,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.