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 Brunei and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gang of Four to the crunk 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Spandau Ballet,
Clear Light,
The Modern Lovers,
The Neon Judgement,
Hashim,
Circle Jerks,
Hardrive,
Letta Mbulu,
The Walker Brothers,
Guru Guru,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sällskapet,
Pere Ubu,
Faust,
Eve St. Jones,
Blake Baxter,
Bad Manners,
The Last Poets,
Drive Like Jehu,
Don Cherry,
Aloha Tigers,
Cameo,
Agent Orange,
The Happenings,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Avey Tare,
Mo-Dettes,
Quadrant,
Von Mondo,
Absolute Body Control,
F. McDonald,
Section 25,
Nas,
Stiv Bators,
Oblivians,
The Move,
Steve Hackett,
Henry Cow,
Iggy Pop,
Black Flag,
Prince Buster,
James White and The Blacks,
MDC,
MC5,
Harpers Bizarre,
Minny Pops,
Todd Terry,
Television,
Intrusion,
Scientists,
Sexual Harrassment,
June Days,
The Pretty Things,
Make Up,
The Star Department,
Jimmy McGriff,
Spoonie Gee,
John Lydon,
Bobby Sherman,
Easy Going,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.