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 Andorra and from New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Fat Boys to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Misunderstood,
Sexual Harrassment,
Quando Quango,
Sugar Minott,
Section 25,
Kevin Saunderson,
Yaz,
Hasil Adkins,
Sparks,
Sam Rivers,
Subhumans,
Fear,
ABC,
Ornette Coleman,
Bob Dylan,
Black Moon,
Bush Tetras,
Throbbing Gristle,
T.S.O.L.,
Charles Mingus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cameo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nirvana,
Harpers Bizarre,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Count Five,
Pierre Henry,
Marmalade,
The Red Krayola,
Inner City,
Sonic Youth,
Fluxion,
Country Teasers,
Agent Orange,
Crash Course in Science,
Lalann,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Evens,
Amazonics,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Carl Craig,
Joy Division,
Barclay James Harvest,
Urselle,
Scion,
Minutemen,
Brand Nubian,
Freddie Wadling,
Juan Atkins,
The Cowsills,
a-ha,
Eve St. Jones,
Jerry's Kids,
Archie Shepp,
Zero Boys,
Television,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.