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 Comoros and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 D'Angelo to the techno 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Desert Stars,
Surgeon,
Slick Rick,
The Fugs,
the Slits,
Roy Ayers,
The Last Poets,
Boredoms,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pharoah Sanders,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
kango's stein massive,
X-101,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pierre Henry,
Warsaw,
Sun City Girls,
Magma,
Minutemen,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Happenings,
Sight & Sound,
Lower 48,
Fugazi,
The Monochrome Set,
Smog,
Piero Umiliani,
Rakim,
Nik Kershaw,
Groovy Waters,
Bad Manners,
Skaos,
A Certain Ratio,
Echospace,
Erasure,
The Index,
Funky Four + One,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jawbox,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Move,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mandrill,
The Leaves,
Lungfish,
Niagra,
CMW,
L. Decosne,
Jerry's Kids,
Chris & Cosey,
Shuggie Otis,
B.T. Express,
Rapeman,
Bill Near,
Visage,
Spoonie Gee,
Cybotron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Q and Not U,
Sandy B,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.