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 Tonga and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Kurtis Blow to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Pylon,
Radiohead,
ABBA,
Gang of Four,
Surgeon,
Saccharine Trust,
EPMD,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sun Ra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Iggy Pop,
Sarah Menescal,
Henry Cow,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Cale,
The Offenders,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fluxion,
China Crisis,
Black Moon,
Max Romeo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jandek,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Blancmange,
Television Personalities,
The Fugs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
E-Dancer,
Grauzone,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rod Modell,
Toni Rubio,
Piero Umiliani,
Suburban Knight,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Warsaw,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Monolake,
Don Cherry,
Minor Threat,
Blake Baxter,
The Gladiators,
Desert Stars,
Q65,
Juan Atkins,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Moleskins,
Connie Case,
Terry Callier,
Morten Harket,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Excepter,
Tres Demented,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.