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 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar 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 Boredoms to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Skarface,
Khruangbin,
Jerry's Kids,
John Foxx,
Brass Construction,
The Blues Magoos,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Howard Jones,
Average White Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Animal Collective,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dead Boys,
Lower 48,
Smog,
Inner City,
Agent Orange,
Section 25,
The Searchers,
Half Japanese,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
A Flock of Seagulls,
China Crisis,
Bobby Byrd,
Joe Smooth,
Robert Wyatt,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dark Day,
KRS-One,
Gang Gang Dance,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arab on Radar,
The Golliwogs,
Boredoms,
Junior Murvin,
Josef K,
Hoover,
Pere Ubu,
Quadrant,
Silicon Teens,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wasted Youth,
Chrome,
The Wake,
Thompson Twins,
Harry Pussy,
Technova,
Janne Schatter,
Rod Modell,
Flash Fearless,
B.T. Express,
Pylon,
Sister Nancy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hashim,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Main Source,
Soft Cell,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.