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 Andorra and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Public Enemy to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Music Machine,
Procol Harum,
Colin Newman,
Roxette,
The Beau Brummels,
R.M.O.,
Barclay James Harvest,
In Retrospect,
Maurizio,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eli Mardock,
Mission of Burma,
Andrew Hill,
Sugar Minott,
Cameo,
Bill Wells,
Gang Starr,
The Seeds,
Gang of Four,
Ituana,
The Gap Band,
Bobby Sherman,
The Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Blackbyrds,
Unrelated Segments,
Lyres,
The New Christs,
Jeff Mills,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Human League,
The Cramps,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Index,
the Swans,
Brass Construction,
Al Stewart,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kerrie Biddell,
Warsaw,
Fluxion,
Niagra,
Mandrill,
Malaria!,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ohio Players,
Con Funk Shun,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Accadde A,
Unwound,
The Modern Lovers,
Erasure,
Robert Wyatt,
The Martian,
Monks,
Section 25,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lee Hazlewood,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.