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 Uruguay and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the jazz 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Negative Approach,
Icehouse,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Gladiators,
The Move,
The Misunderstood,
DNA,
DJ Style,
Public Enemy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
This Heat,
Moss Icon,
Fad Gadget,
Royal Trux,
The Names,
Arab on Radar,
Skarface,
Newcleus,
Absolute Body Control,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Little Man,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lakeside,
Nik Kershaw,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Archie Shepp,
The Real Kids,
Pole,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang of Four,
Matthew Halsall,
Surgeon,
T. Rex,
Stiv Bators,
The J.B.'s,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Funkadelic,
Maurizio,
Ponytail,
Kurtis Blow,
The Slits,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pere Ubu,
Grey Daturas,
Neu!,
L. Decosne,
Byron Stingily,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rakim,
Soul II Soul,
Todd Rundgren,
Siglo XX,
The Dave Clark Five,
Porter Ricks,
Gong,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sex Pistols,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.