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 Uganda and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet 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 Man Parrish to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
The Pretty Things,
Chrome,
Agent Orange,
Country Teasers,
Ronnie Foster,
Lungfish,
Suburban Knight,
Brothers Johnson,
Joyce Sims,
The United States of America,
Hasil Adkins,
Aaron Thompson,
Mars,
The Flesh Eaters,
Saccharine Trust,
Goldenarms,
Robert Wyatt,
Pussy Galore,
Rites of Spring,
8 Eyed Spy,
Popol Vuh,
Audionom,
Depeche Mode,
Susan Cadogan,
the Association,
The Fuzztones,
Moss Icon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Chris Corsano,
Bill Near,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Reagan Youth,
Joey Negro,
The Doors,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Sonics,
The Mummies,
Ultravox,
Jandek,
Siglo XX,
Electric Prunes,
LL Cool J,
Massinfluence,
Skriet,
Moby Grape,
Thompson Twins,
The Barracudas,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Absolute Body Control,
Kayak,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minor Threat,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nick Fraelich,
Nas,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wire,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.