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 Kenya and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin 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 Darondo to the grime 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Josef K,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Amon Düül II,
Bronski Beat,
The Gun Club,
The Mummies,
Cameo,
Glenn Branca,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Soft Cell,
Unrelated Segments,
Lyres,
Aloha Tigers,
Heaven 17,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Johnny Clarke,
Make Up,
The Fire Engines,
The Gories,
Pole,
Funkadelic,
Jeff Lynne,
The Moody Blues,
Country Teasers,
Cymande,
The Names,
Gil Scott Heron,
David Axelrod,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Flamin' Groovies,
Avey Tare,
Anakelly,
the Slits,
The Moleskins,
Audionom,
Jerry's Kids,
Slave,
Model 500,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Whodini,
Brass Construction,
Reuben Wilson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Music Machine,
Gerry Rafferty,
Donald Byrd,
Alison Limerick,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scion,
Sugar Minott,
Grey Daturas,
Kurtis Blow,
Todd Terry,
Derrick May,
Harry Pussy,
The Searchers,
Faust,
Radiopuhelimet,
Scrapy,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.