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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Tom Verlaine 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
John Holt,
Mad Mike,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Throbbing Gristle,
Y Pants,
The Fall,
Inner City,
One Last Wish,
DNA,
In Retrospect,
Letta Mbulu,
Ponytail,
Minny Pops,
The Dirtbombs,
Metal Thangz,
Slick Rick,
Rekid,
The Grass Roots,
The Electric Prunes,
Gong,
The Vogues,
Alison Limerick,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Remains,
Fela Kuti,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Monks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eurythmics,
Young Marble Giants,
the Association,
Marvin Gaye,
Tommy Roe,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Terry Callier,
ABBA,
Matthew Bourne,
Boredoms,
Howard Jones,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Sherman,
The Associates,
Q65,
Derrick Morgan,
Sister Nancy,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Rapeman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Motions,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Barrington Levy,
Q and Not U,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The J.B.'s,
The Index,
David McCallum,
the Swans,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.