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 Antigua and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
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 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 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the jazz 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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Shoche,
the Slits,
Supertramp,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nils Olav,
Lalann,
Banda Bassotti,
Ken Boothe,
Gang Green,
Drive Like Jehu,
Groovy Waters,
Make Up,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Vogues,
Metal Thangz,
Das Ding,
Eric B and Rakim,
Visage,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pole,
June of 44,
10cc,
Alison Limerick,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Red Krayola,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Janne Schatter,
Alice Coltrane,
Urselle,
Television Personalities,
Little Man,
Cymande,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sarah Menescal,
Pantytec,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
H. Thieme,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott Heron,
MC5,
Q and Not U,
Minutemen,
Don Cherry,
Slave,
Fatback Band,
Scott Walker,
The Motions,
Dawn Penn,
Wings,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stetsasonic,
The American Breed,
Man Parrish,
Bang On A Can,
Moby Grape,
Wire,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lungfish,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.