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 New Zealand and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gregory Isaacs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
The New Christs,
Oneida,
Arthur Verocai,
Los Fastidios,
Cymande,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Flamin' Groovies,
David Axelrod,
Big Daddy Kane,
In Retrospect,
Ohio Players,
The Kinks,
Malaria!,
Black Flag,
Jawbox,
Kerrie Biddell,
Johnny Clarke,
Main Source,
Quadrant,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kenny Larkin,
The Moleskins,
Pagans,
Wasted Youth,
Moebius,
Vladislav Delay,
Ludus,
B.T. Express,
Amazonics,
Fugazi,
Alton Ellis,
Ossler,
Saccharine Trust,
Niagra,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cybotron,
Ornette Coleman,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lalo Schifrin,
Depeche Mode,
Suicide,
Symarip,
Man Eating Sloth,
Howard Jones,
Fluxion,
Camberwell Now,
Agent Orange,
Wire,
Eric Dolphy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Joyce Sims,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sam Rivers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Vainqueur,
Fear,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Neon Judgement,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.