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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
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 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 David Bowie 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 Jeru the Damaja to the punk 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joensuu 1685,
Outsiders,
Simply Red,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Radiohead,
John Coltrane,
K-Klass,
The Fall,
The Standells,
The Moody Blues,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eli Mardock,
JFA,
Freddie Wadling,
The Kinks,
Visage,
Mars,
Smog,
Y Pants,
Intrusion,
New Order,
Faust,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Amon Düül,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Remains,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gabor Szabo,
Roxy Music,
The Wake,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Blossom Toes,
Mary Jane Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pussy Galore,
The Black Dice,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Buckinghams,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Grey Daturas,
The Gladiators,
Cal Tjader,
Wire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Josef K,
Malaria!,
X-101,
Godley & Creme,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sex Pistols,
10cc,
Isaac Hayes,
Sun City Girls,
Gang Starr,
Mr. Review,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.