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 Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin 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 Ultra Naté 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Birthday Party,
Half Japanese,
Aswad,
Lalann,
Brick,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bobby Sherman,
Blossom Toes,
Jawbox,
Sonny Sharrock,
Television,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Heaven 17,
Camouflage,
Susan Cadogan,
Metal Thangz,
The Electric Prunes,
The Offenders,
Masters at Work,
The Residents,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bill Near,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sound,
Howard Jones,
The Flesh Eaters,
Blancmange,
The Pretty Things,
Josef K,
Tropical Tobacco,
Swell Maps,
Ossler,
Stockholm Monsters,
Soft Cell,
Trumans Water,
The Trojans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Monks,
Crash Course in Science,
Bootsy Collins,
Gong,
Cal Tjader,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
L. Decosne,
Erasure,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sex Pistols,
The Angels of Light,
The Durutti Column,
Lebanon Hanover,
KRS-One,
MDC,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Monochrome Set,
World's Most,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.