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 Tajikistan and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare 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 DJ Sneak to the crunk 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Cluster,
John Coltrane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pole,
Rufus Thomas,
La Düsseldorf,
Laurel Aitken,
John Lydon,
Nick Fraelich,
Ludus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Second Layer,
Shoche,
Flamin' Groovies,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Tremeloes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Al Stewart,
Isaac Hayes,
Angry Samoans,
Slick Rick,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Johnny Osbourne,
Clear Light,
Skaos,
Hardrive,
Mo-Dettes,
DNA,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Von Mondo,
Mark Hollis,
The Mojo Men,
Oneida,
Lou Christie,
Symarip,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Monks,
Camberwell Now,
Lalann,
Au Pairs,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yaz,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Zeros,
Swell Maps,
Japan,
The United States of America,
Organ,
The Angels of Light,
Minor Threat,
New Age Steppers,
Wings,
Darondo,
Chrome,
Sex Pistols,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chris & Cosey,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.