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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 The J.B.'s to the electroclash 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
The Cure,
The Remains,
Ossler,
The Red Krayola,
The Real Kids,
China Crisis,
Gichy Dan,
Stockholm Monsters,
KRS-One,
Negative Approach,
Big Daddy Kane,
Brand Nubian,
the Slits,
Faust,
Pole,
Todd Rundgren,
Angry Samoans,
La Düsseldorf,
Blancmange,
Drexciya,
The New Christs,
The Associates,
Junior Murvin,
Desert Stars,
Matthew Bourne,
New York Dolls,
Jeff Mills,
The Tremeloes,
Johnny Osbourne,
These Immortal Souls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pierre Henry,
Bluetip,
Dorothy Ashby,
Camberwell Now,
Altered Images,
Tubeway Army,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rufus Thomas,
Anakelly,
Aloha Tigers,
The Residents,
Chris Corsano,
Massinfluence,
The Fortunes,
Barbara Tucker,
Dave Gahan,
Cybotron,
Scion,
The Kinks,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Smiths,
Ornette Coleman,
Ralphi Rosario,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Albert Ayler,
Deepchord,
Das Ding,
The Techniques,
Goldenarms,
The Leaves,
Urselle,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.