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 Mali and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Nation of Ulysses to the funk 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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Sex Pistols,
The United States of America,
Mission of Burma,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Byrd,
Crooked Eye,
Lakeside,
The Dirtbombs,
Camouflage,
AZ,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Blake Baxter,
the Association,
Radiohead,
Faraquet,
The Tremeloes,
Crime,
DJ Style,
Darondo,
Ornette Coleman,
Nirvana,
Arcadia,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kenny Larkin,
Wally Richardson,
Johnny Clarke,
Q65,
Morten Harket,
The Invisible,
The Trojans,
Sister Nancy,
Soulsonic Force,
Swans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Section 25,
The Smoke,
The Count Five,
James White and The Blacks,
Pulsallama,
Gong,
Toni Rubio,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marvin Gaye,
Howard Jones,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Buzzcocks,
X-101,
Fatback Band,
The Fuzztones,
Deepchord,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dark Day,
Gil Scott Heron,
Country Teasers,
The Electric Prunes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The J.B.'s,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Faust,
Con Funk Shun,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.