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 Accra.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Slits to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Idris Muhammad,
Skaos,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Bar-Kays,
Scratch Acid,
The Star Department,
Bill Wells,
Livin' Joy,
Supertramp,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rakim,
The Trojans,
Eden Ahbez,
Icehouse,
John Coltrane,
Theoretical Girls,
Circle Jerks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Darondo,
Moss Icon,
Robert Hood,
The Saints,
Porter Ricks,
Gabor Szabo,
cv313,
Interpol,
Terry Callier,
Aural Exciters,
Parry Music,
Brothers Johnson,
Severed Heads,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pussy Galore,
Prince Buster,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Five Americans,
Infiniti,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Wake,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Royal Trux,
Roy Ayers,
Marvin Gaye,
Jimmy McGriff,
Monolake,
Black Flag,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Letta Mbulu,
The Vogues,
The Slits,
Qualms,
Jeru the Damaja,
F. McDonald,
The United States of America,
Thompson Twins,
Sällskapet,
Judy Mowatt,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.