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 Mauritius and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Yazoo to the crunk 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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Morten Harket,
Cal Tjader,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sonics,
Roger Hodgson,
AZ,
Maleditus Sound,
The New Christs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sam Rivers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Visage,
Gabor Szabo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lightning Bolt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Robert Görl,
the Slits,
Minny Pops,
The United States of America,
Anakelly,
Nico,
Main Source,
Jacques Brel,
Mission of Burma,
Siglo XX,
Max Romeo,
Blake Baxter,
The Durutti Column,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bronski Beat,
Spandau Ballet,
Thee Headcoats,
Stetsasonic,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Knickerbockers,
X-102,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rod Modell,
Slave,
Colin Newman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Chrome,
The Black Dice,
Roxy Music,
Average White Band,
Organ,
Bizarre Inc.,
Negative Approach,
Letta Mbulu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oneida,
The Doobie Brothers,
Reuben Wilson,
Stiv Bators,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.