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 Tunisia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Johnny Clarke to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fall. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Altered Images,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Black Flag,
Sparks,
Susan Cadogan,
E-Dancer,
The Last Poets,
K-Klass,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
OOIOO,
Cybotron,
The Slackers,
Tom Boy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Buzzcocks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New Age Steppers,
Joey Negro,
Theoretical Girls,
The Motions,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Faraquet,
Talk Talk,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Beau Brummels,
Sugar Minott,
CMW,
The Moleskins,
Freddie Wadling,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Residents,
Roxette,
Chris & Cosey,
Absolute Body Control,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DJ Style,
Swans,
Little Man,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Motorama,
Scion,
David Axelrod,
the Germs,
The Litter,
Kayak,
Crime,
Pantytec,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hasil Adkins,
New York Dolls,
Underground Resistance,
The United States of America,
Franke,
Kaleidoscope,
Country Teasers,
The Fugs,
Ohio Players,
U.S. Maple,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.