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 Portugal and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ultra Naté to the techno 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Raincoats,
The Smiths,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mantronix,
Colin Newman,
the Sonics,
Arcadia,
Gong,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
MC5,
D'Angelo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Donny Hathaway,
Altered Images,
Joe Smooth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bill Near,
Derrick May,
World's Most,
Don Cherry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bill Wells,
Siglo XX,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sandy B,
The Neon Judgement,
Tears for Fears,
Wings,
Girls At Our Best!,
R.M.O.,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pierre Henry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Drexciya,
Au Pairs,
Dave Gahan,
Toni Rubio,
The Standells,
a-ha,
E-Dancer,
The Tremeloes,
The Durutti Column,
John Foxx,
Kaleidoscope,
Bootsy Collins,
Hot Snakes,
Sonny Sharrock,
X-101,
The Motions,
Rites of Spring,
The Music Machine,
Clear Light,
The Golliwogs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gang Starr,
Prince Buster,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.