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 Lesotho and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Holger Czukay 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 Bob Dylan to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Marc Almond,
John Cale,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lyres,
Fat Boys,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cowsills,
Peter & Gordon,
Deakin,
The Index,
Crash Course in Science,
Moss Icon,
Hoover,
Infiniti,
Wings,
Rosa Yemen,
New York Dolls,
Barrington Levy,
Section 25,
Jacob Miller,
Nation of Ulysses,
Goldenarms,
Spandau Ballet,
Inner City,
Scott Walker,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Babytalk,
Cymande,
Amon Düül,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Glenn Branca,
Toni Rubio,
Shuggie Otis,
The Misunderstood,
the Sonics,
Scrapy,
The Searchers,
Arcadia,
Grauzone,
Wasted Youth,
Yaz,
Boredoms,
Little Man,
Eric Dolphy,
Smog,
Accadde A,
Pagans,
Rod Modell,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Wake,
Danielle Patucci,
China Crisis,
The United States of America,
Brass Construction,
Masters at Work,
Slave,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tommy Roe,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.