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 Romania and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 808 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 48th St. Collective to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Chrome,
Marcia Griffiths,
Anthony Braxton,
The Associates,
Flamin' Groovies,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Iggy Pop,
Derrick Morgan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Davy DMX,
The J.B.'s,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joe Finger,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Heaven 17,
Monolake,
Scion,
Rufus Thomas,
Model 500,
The Dirtbombs,
Peter & Gordon,
Joe Smooth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Cure,
Warren Ellis,
a-ha,
The Fire Engines,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Byrd,
The Offenders,
Hardrive,
Skarface,
Wings,
Lyres,
Lindisfarne,
Susan Cadogan,
Ludus,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Starr,
Black Moon,
The Victims,
Cameo,
Howard Jones,
Rotary Connection,
Juan Atkins,
Ornette Coleman,
Bill Near,
Gastr Del Sol,
Arcadia,
Carl Craig,
Whodini,
Eurythmics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Malaria!,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
L. Decosne,
Sun Ra,
Glenn Branca,
The Gladiators,
Jeru the Damaja,
Todd Rundgren,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.