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 Egypt and from Bologna.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mexico City.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Curtis Mayfield to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
The Pretty Things,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Khruangbin,
The Sound,
Franke,
Nico,
Interpol,
Godley & Creme,
Organ,
Audionom,
Saccharine Trust,
Moby Grape,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cymande,
The J.B.'s,
Sex Pistols,
Easy Going,
June Days,
Gerry Rafferty,
Minnie Riperton,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Newcleus,
Banda Bassotti,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deakin,
Roy Ayers,
Pylon,
Yazoo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Wake,
The Slits,
Basic Channel,
LL Cool J,
Masters at Work,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cluster,
The Misunderstood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Skatalites,
Scott Walker,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Absolute Body Control,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Harry Pussy,
Fela Kuti,
Iggy Pop,
The Young Rascals,
A Certain Ratio,
Archie Shepp,
The Monks,
Japan,
Charles Mingus,
Cal Tjader,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
David McCallum,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.