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 Guinea and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Columbus and Johannesburg.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Flesh Eaters 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon 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 arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Monolake,
X-Ray Spex,
K-Klass,
Davy DMX,
Dennis Brown,
The Kinks,
New Age Steppers,
Schoolly D,
Minnie Riperton,
Metal Thangz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
F. McDonald,
Yellowson,
Sparks,
Liliput,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Joy Division,
Mark Hollis,
The Gap Band,
The Move,
Nation of Ulysses,
Goldenarms,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tears for Fears,
John Holt,
The Slits,
Franke,
Janne Schatter,
H. Thieme,
Ornette Coleman,
The Gun Club,
Kevin Saunderson,
Smog,
Joey Negro,
Hot Snakes,
Mandrill,
Matthew Halsall,
T. Rex,
The Fall,
Derrick Morgan,
The Index,
Urselle,
Banda Bassotti,
Tim Buckley,
Reagan Youth,
Blancmange,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kas Product,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scientists,
Sarah Menescal,
Jacques Brel,
The Fuzztones,
These Immortal Souls,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.