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 Honduras and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gastr Del Sol to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Warren Ellis,
Oneida,
Nirvana,
Crooked Eye,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Young Rascals,
Theoretical Girls,
Black Pus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Cecil Taylor,
Fugazi,
The Monks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Soft Cell,
The Gladiators,
The Shadows of Knight,
Steve Hackett,
Dead Boys,
Liliput,
The Motions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Japan,
Tommy Roe,
Nick Fraelich,
Sarah Menescal,
Max Romeo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Patti Smith,
DJ Sneak,
Tropical Tobacco,
One Last Wish,
Radio Birdman,
Eli Mardock,
Kevin Saunderson,
Judy Mowatt,
Monolake,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Maleditus Sound,
Mandrill,
Yazoo,
Rakim,
Brothers Johnson,
Smog,
Mark Hollis,
Severed Heads,
Ken Boothe,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rapeman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Alton Ellis,
Young Marble Giants,
Altered Images,
Girls At Our Best!,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
U.S. Maple,
Bauhaus,
Faraquet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.