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 Poland and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Brand Nubian to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Blossom Toes,
X-Ray Spex,
Thompson Twins,
Kaleidoscope,
Sandy B,
Bush Tetras,
the Slits,
Public Enemy,
Ronnie Foster,
The Fugs,
Wings,
Lalo Schifrin,
Country Teasers,
Marmalade,
Sällskapet,
LL Cool J,
Joensuu 1685,
Monks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Zapp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Soft Cell,
Fela Kuti,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Aural Exciters,
Main Source,
The Skatalites,
Drexciya,
Lower 48,
The Modern Lovers,
James White and The Blacks,
Blancmange,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fugazi,
Robert Wyatt,
Model 500,
Juan Atkins,
Pussy Galore,
John Cale,
Erasure,
Kurtis Blow,
Roxette,
Popol Vuh,
Country Joe & The Fish,
D'Angelo,
Lyres,
The Gories,
Bobby Sherman,
New Order,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bluetip,
Lou Christie,
Nas,
Chrome,
Suicide,
Nico,
T.S.O.L.,
Symarip,
One Last Wish,
Depeche Mode,
This Heat,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.