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 Panama and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Inner City to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Tropical Tobacco,
Blancmange,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Ice-T,
Reagan Youth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eurythmics,
Magma,
Alison Limerick,
The Cure,
Model 500,
Prince Buster,
This Heat,
Marc Almond,
Fluxion,
Sister Nancy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dual Sessions,
The Human League,
Matthew Bourne,
Jeff Mills,
Minnie Riperton,
MC5,
Clear Light,
The J.B.'s,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
One Last Wish,
Sugar Minott,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eric Copeland,
The New Christs,
Bobby Sherman,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Walker Brothers,
the Normal,
Hot Snakes,
Albert Ayler,
Magazine,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aloha Tigers,
Barbara Tucker,
Bluetip,
Ludus,
Funky Four + One,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rakim,
Soft Cell,
June Days,
Radiohead,
The Star Department,
Rufus Thomas,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sound Behaviour,
Roxy Music,
Essential Logic,
The Young Rascals,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
ABC,
Radio Birdman,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.