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 Norway and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Godley & Creme to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
R.M.O.,
Public Enemy,
Kenny Larkin,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hasil Adkins,
Sex Pistols,
EPMD,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Amon Düül,
Cluster,
Brick,
kango's stein massive,
Brand Nubian,
Monolake,
DNA,
The Slits,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Monks,
Connie Case,
The Sound,
Youth Brigade,
Johnny Clarke,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scrapy,
Gang Starr,
the Bar-Kays,
Pagans,
Bluetip,
Maleditus Sound,
Roxette,
Idris Muhammad,
The Doors,
the Soft Cell,
Tom Boy,
Urselle,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Coltrane,
Japan,
Circle Jerks,
Marine Girls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Organ,
Jacques Brel,
Patti Smith,
Barry Ungar,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Camberwell Now,
the Slits,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Henry Cow,
The Fuzztones,
Janne Schatter,
Kerri Chandler,
Kool Moe Dee,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Modern Lovers,
Index,
The Fortunes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Section 25,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.