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 Andorra and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Thee Headcoats to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up 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 clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Inner City,
Depeche Mode,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Charles Mingus,
The Mojo Men,
Michelle Simonal,
Camberwell Now,
Lyres,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Brothers Johnson,
Clear Light,
Sam Rivers,
the Soft Cell,
Lalann,
Q65,
The Black Dice,
Traffic Nightmare,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marcia Griffiths,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Blossom Toes,
Sun City Girls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Subhumans,
Talk Talk,
The Moody Blues,
Roger Hodgson,
Man Parrish,
Reuben Wilson,
Wings,
Brass Construction,
Monks,
The Pop Group,
Kerri Chandler,
Stereo Dub,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rufus Thomas,
The Martian,
David Bowie,
Avey Tare,
Gang of Four,
Livin' Joy,
James White and The Blacks,
PIL,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pole,
Nick Fraelich,
the Association,
Essential Logic,
Oneida,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Reed,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ituana,
Dave Gahan,
David Axelrod,
Pantytec,
The Invisible,
Bush Tetras,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.