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 Monaco and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Associates to the punk 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Radio Birdman,
Flash Fearless,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Electric Prunes,
John Foxx,
Dawn Penn,
Bang On A Can,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cecil Taylor,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fluxion,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare,
Amon Düül II,
Barrington Levy,
These Immortal Souls,
Minnie Riperton,
James White and The Blacks,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gun Club,
Lower 48,
Heaven 17,
World's Most,
Bob Dylan,
Newcleus,
Rakim,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joey Negro,
Index,
Pantaleimon,
Neil Young,
Eric Dolphy,
Morten Harket,
Cluster,
Alice Coltrane,
Country Teasers,
Blancmange,
Audionom,
The Buckinghams,
Spandau Ballet,
DJ Sneak,
Lalo Schifrin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
8 Eyed Spy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Red Krayola,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Intrusion,
Sandy B,
Ultra Naté,
Rufus Thomas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Idris Muhammad,
Youth Brigade,
Pierre Henry,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.