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 Netherlands and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the crunk 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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Oneida,
Wally Richardson,
Agent Orange,
Davy DMX,
10cc,
The Buckinghams,
Sandy B,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Talk Talk,
The Selecter,
The Durutti Column,
Morten Harket,
Schoolly D,
Neil Young,
Main Source,
Deepchord,
The Grass Roots,
Ice-T,
ABC,
Sound Behaviour,
Spoonie Gee,
Public Enemy,
Essential Logic,
DNA,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Guru Guru,
Eddi Front,
Isaac Hayes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Seeds,
Eli Mardock,
The Smiths,
Don Cherry,
R.M.O.,
Quando Quango,
Howard Jones,
The Moody Blues,
Circle Jerks,
Scientists,
Josef K,
June of 44,
Ronnie Foster,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pussy Galore,
Piero Umiliani,
Flamin' Groovies,
Althea and Donna,
The Black Dice,
Swans,
Skarface,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Sound,
Toni Rubio,
Archie Shepp,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sex Pistols,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.