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 Angola and from Mexico City.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jeff Mills to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Bad Manners,
the Fania All-Stars,
Monks,
The Slackers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dead Boys,
Harmonia,
Parry Music,
Livin' Joy,
La Düsseldorf,
Kas Product,
Eurythmics,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Procol Harum,
Johnny Osbourne,
Das Ding,
Pantytec,
Colin Newman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tommy Roe,
Niagra,
Swell Maps,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sun Ra,
Drive Like Jehu,
Juan Atkins,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nik Kershaw,
Soulsonic Force,
X-101,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Roy Ayers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Donald Byrd,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pulsallama,
Marc Almond,
The Gories,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tim Buckley,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Boredoms,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Quadrant,
Ronan,
Letta Mbulu,
Outsiders,
Todd Rundgren,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Faust,
EPMD,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Neon Judgement,
Absolute Body Control,
Dawn Penn,
Brothers Johnson,
Masters at Work,
Los Fastidios,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.