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 Czech Republic and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Happenings to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
New Order,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nas,
The Techniques,
K-Klass,
Television,
Danielle Patucci,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Siglo XX,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Association,
Desert Stars,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fortunes,
The Human League,
Judy Mowatt,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yaz,
Jandek,
Bang On A Can,
The Names,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Monks,
Bob Dylan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Public Enemy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Roger Hodgson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Moon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobby Byrd,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cymande,
The Kinks,
The Stooges,
Mandrill,
Grauzone,
Silicon Teens,
The Remains,
The Last Poets,
DNA,
Blossom Toes,
The United States of America,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Surgeon,
The Searchers,
Newcleus,
Boogie Down Productions,
Goldenarms,
Ice-T,
The Divine Comedy,
John Holt,
Angry Samoans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Unwound,
Sly & The Family Stone,
LL Cool J,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.