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 Cameroon and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron 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 Outsiders to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Tom Boy,
Eddi Front,
Lyres,
Robert Wyatt,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pantytec,
Ultra Naté,
Grauzone,
Youth Brigade,
The Buckinghams,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pere Ubu,
Wolf Eyes,
Pussy Galore,
Masters at Work,
Angry Samoans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bronski Beat,
Cal Tjader,
Letta Mbulu,
Leonard Cohen,
Monks,
Nirvana,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Womack,
T. Rex,
Lungfish,
Alphaville,
Tomorrow,
Stetsasonic,
Bluetip,
The Black Dice,
Malaria!,
The Selecter,
Hot Snakes,
Yellowson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Germs,
The Gories,
T.S.O.L.,
Terrestrial Tones,
UT,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Parry Music,
Nils Olav,
Outsiders,
Dark Day,
Prince Buster,
Lou Reed,
Duran Duran,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Skatalites,
Soul II Soul,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Byron Stingily,
The Misunderstood,
Johnny Clarke,
Pantaleimon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.