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 Latvia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 John Cale 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
10cc,
Television,
Model 500,
Juan Atkins,
Motorama,
Bootsy Collins,
New Order,
Porter Ricks,
ABBA,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
China Crisis,
Cheater Slicks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The American Breed,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Associates,
Fatback Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marc Almond,
Reagan Youth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Henry Cow,
JFA,
Amon Düül,
Erasure,
Deepchord,
The Move,
The Cowsills,
Goldenarms,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cure,
Can,
Roger Hodgson,
Jacques Brel,
The Birthday Party,
The Red Krayola,
T. Rex,
Thee Headcoats,
Silicon Teens,
The Velvet Underground,
Hoover,
Barry Ungar,
Popol Vuh,
Jeru the Damaja,
Quando Quango,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Barracudas,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lou Christie,
Ossler,
Ultra Naté,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Subhumans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Alarm Clocks,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.