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 Italy and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Darondo to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mission of Burma,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scott Walker,
Yusef Lateef,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Duran Duran,
James White and The Blacks,
Cymande,
Mad Mike,
DNA,
Section 25,
10cc,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Connie Case,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joe Smooth,
Althea and Donna,
Erasure,
Accadde A,
The Music Machine,
The Dead C,
Qualms,
The Busters,
Bad Manners,
Scratch Acid,
Severed Heads,
The Residents,
Eric Copeland,
Soft Machine,
Roy Ayers,
Magazine,
Bronski Beat,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Minnie Riperton,
Soul Sonic Force,
Reagan Youth,
Todd Rundgren,
Scion,
KRS-One,
Circle Jerks,
David Axelrod,
Buzzcocks,
Albert Ayler,
Drexciya,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Public Enemy,
X-102,
Schoolly D,
The Remains,
Icehouse,
Wire,
The Blackbyrds,
The American Breed,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Doors,
Arab on Radar,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Holt,
Morten Harket,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.