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 Barbados and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 the Bar-Kays to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
T. Rex,
The Fuzztones,
Monolake,
Cal Tjader,
X-102,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Radio Birdman,
Hot Snakes,
The Sonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Spoonie Gee,
Donald Byrd,
The Pop Group,
Johnny Clarke,
The Trojans,
The Residents,
Skarface,
Aaron Thompson,
KRS-One,
Slave,
This Heat,
the Swans,
Kurtis Blow,
The Evens,
Organ,
The Blues Magoos,
Crispian St. Peters,
Warsaw,
Scientists,
Wolf Eyes,
Supertramp,
Little Man,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fugs,
A Certain Ratio,
Hoover,
Lungfish,
Pulsallama,
Television,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
OOIOO,
Terry Callier,
The Alarm Clocks,
The J.B.'s,
The Barracudas,
Maurizio,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Agitation Free,
Soft Cell,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brand Nubian,
Letta Mbulu,
The Kinks,
Eve St. Jones,
Ronan,
AZ,
Rotary Connection,
Colin Newman,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.