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 Guyana and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Cymande,
Marine Girls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Simply Red,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
Stiv Bators,
New Order,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Dawn Penn,
Derrick May,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Glenn Branca,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Procol Harum,
Blossom Toes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
LL Cool J,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Trojans,
Brand Nubian,
Lou Christie,
Flamin' Groovies,
Althea and Donna,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
PIL,
Audionom,
World's Most,
Man Parrish,
Theoretical Girls,
Rekid,
The J.B.'s,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Kinks,
Morten Harket,
The Smiths,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Harry Pussy,
The Techniques,
Nik Kershaw,
The Selecter,
Black Bananas,
Marc Almond,
Donald Byrd,
Gang of Four,
R.M.O.,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rufus Thomas,
The Slits,
Shoche,
Unrelated Segments,
The Busters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.