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 Greece and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Moss Icon to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Visage,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rekid,
Sandy B,
Black Flag,
Q and Not U,
Main Source,
Arab on Radar,
Marc Almond,
Soft Machine,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Matthew Halsall,
the Association,
The Human League,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soft Cell,
In Retrospect,
Ice-T,
Nas,
The Motions,
Half Japanese,
Quando Quango,
Tommy Roe,
Donald Byrd,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Susan Cadogan,
Smog,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Los Fastidios,
Harry Pussy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Chrome,
Pere Ubu,
Eve St. Jones,
The Divine Comedy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nik Kershaw,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Byrd,
Sister Nancy,
Charles Mingus,
Ponytail,
Yusef Lateef,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siglo XX,
the Germs,
The Leaves,
The Beau Brummels,
Barbara Tucker,
The Five Americans,
World's Most,
Gang Green,
Girls At Our Best!,
Suburban Knight,
Frankie Knuckles,
Desert Stars,
Cluster,
Qualms,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Todd Terry,
Cameo,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.