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 Norway and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Erasure,
Girls At Our Best!,
John Lydon,
Letta Mbulu,
Absolute Body Control,
The Trojans,
Sexual Harrassment,
In Retrospect,
Marmalade,
The Cramps,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Yellowson,
Brand Nubian,
Pulsallama,
The Fuzztones,
Electric Prunes,
The Divine Comedy,
The Doors,
Ken Boothe,
Lebanon Hanover,
The United States of America,
Sonic Youth,
Make Up,
Spoonie Gee,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Accadde A,
The Sound,
Byron Stingily,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Connie Case,
The Barracudas,
ABC,
Pussy Galore,
Anakelly,
LL Cool J,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Star Department,
Wolf Eyes,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Standells,
Tres Demented,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Subhumans,
Aloha Tigers,
The Offenders,
The Slits,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Amazonics,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Judy Mowatt,
Soul II Soul,
Excepter,
The Kinks,
Sparks,
This Heat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Funky Four + One,
Audionom,
Television,
Gichy Dan,
Tears for Fears,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.