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 Turkmenistan and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 rhodes 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 Knickerbockers to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Zero Boys,
New York Dolls,
Crime,
Todd Rundgren,
Dorothy Ashby,
La Düsseldorf,
Eric Copeland,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sexual Harrassment,
Technova,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pole,
Scrapy,
the Association,
Can,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Buzzcocks,
The United States of America,
Joe Smooth,
Chris Corsano,
Glenn Branca,
Hot Snakes,
Country Teasers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Donald Byrd,
Glambeats Corp.,
Yellowson,
R.M.O.,
Gong,
Yusef Lateef,
Deadbeat,
Godley & Creme,
Guru Guru,
Barrington Levy,
The Toasters,
Mars,
June Days,
Bill Near,
Sex Pistols,
Liliput,
T. Rex,
CMW,
Funkadelic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Outsiders,
Accadde A,
The Associates,
James White and The Blacks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Man Eating Sloth,
David McCallum,
The Residents,
Q65,
Dark Day,
Bobby Womack,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nas,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.