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 Qatar and from Delhi.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 New Christs to the techno 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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
The Offenders,
The Knickerbockers,
Roger Hodgson,
The Zeros,
The Smiths,
The Grass Roots,
Con Funk Shun,
Marvin Gaye,
Lou Reed,
Big Daddy Kane,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Carl Craig,
The Moleskins,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Slackers,
Joe Finger,
T.S.O.L.,
Banda Bassotti,
Q and Not U,
Aural Exciters,
Bronski Beat,
Schoolly D,
Anakelly,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Warsaw,
Saccharine Trust,
Porter Ricks,
China Crisis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mandrill,
Essential Logic,
Piero Umiliani,
Alice Coltrane,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Spoonie Gee,
Procol Harum,
Ice-T,
Hasil Adkins,
Scrapy,
Howard Jones,
The Fall,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bauhaus,
ABBA,
Minutemen,
the Association,
Tommy Roe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Maurizio,
Gang Green,
Radiopuhelimet,
Hot Snakes,
Soft Cell,
Cal Tjader,
Max Romeo,
The Real Kids,
Minnie Riperton,
Radio Birdman,
Jawbox,
Man Parrish,
Swell Maps,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.